CHRISTMAS BEFORE THIS YEAR


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North America » United States
January 25th 2008
Published: February 5th 2008
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So I had my very first Christmas away from my family.

First I’ll run you through a typical Christmas with my family. We generally get around to putting up the tree fairly late in December since we all have different work schedules, etc. It finally goes up a week or so before Christmas, and we all decorate it together. We’ve had the same boxes for our Christmas ornaments for as long as I can remember, of which my favorite is a beat-up, thin cardboard box covered with red and white striped paper. I remember the smell of those boxes and the paper towels in which we wrap every delicate ornament - a mixture of dust, attic, and our old house in Waynesburg.

We aren’t one of those families with the perfect, pretty artificial tree decorated with matching ornaments and fancy garland. We always buy a real tree from a family-run Christmas tree farm, and it’s a process agreeing on which one to buy. I prefer smaller, rounder trees with a little longer needles. My brother likes for the tree to be as tall as possible with the very short, prickly needles. We finally choose one, haul it home, and spend the day (okay, not usually the same day - usually a few days later) decorating it together. It’s nice because most of our ornaments have a story, and those that don’t necessarily have a story still have strong memories attached to them, as we have had them forever.

I have a few favorite ornaments. My very favorite ornament is also my dad’s favorite; it’s a small, porcelain face of a sleeping baby. Instead of being painted with realistic coloring, it is white with the features painted and shaded in maroon, including its round, rosy cheeks and the bonnet on its head. Another one of my favorites is a sheep that always looked edible to me, as though it were made of some kind of popcorn. I remember there being another one I always wanted to eat, too, because it looked like gingerbread, but I cannot for the life of me remember what shape it was (scary how fast that sort of thing can drift from your memory, huh?). I also had a stuffed Sebastian from The Little Mermaid with little green mittens on that I loved. I used to make him sing the Christmas songs that were on as we decorated, as his plush mouth was open wide. Another favorite from when I was little was a polar bear that had been ice skating but had fallen on his butt on the ice. I remember it being such a heavy ornament, and one that attached to the tree with a sort of clothespin underneath the ice instead of a hook at the top, so it always had to go somewhere fairly near the bottom.

Anyway, back to the story.

As far as doing anything on Christmas Eve, we usually spent it together, watching a movie or something that evening. Maman and I drank champagne, just because we could.

When we woke up on Christmas morning, my brother and I had to wake Maman and Daddul (Mom and Dad, if you prefer) together before going out to the living room to see the presents. Apparently once their children stop believing in Santa Claus (this I did not know until I was in high school, even), some families wrap presents as they buy them and put them under the tree as soon as the tree goes up. This was never the case in our family. We were not allowed to see any of our presents, wrapped or not, until Christmas morning. Then, on Christmas morning, Tom and I were inevitably pleasantly surprised and quite excited to see the piles of presents under the tree.

There was always an array of colors and patterns, as we used several different kinds of wrapping paper. I never liked the traditional wrapping paper with cartoony Christmas drawings on it. I always preferred a solid color (red, green, silver, gold…) or some sort of a more subtle, sophisticated pattern (shown through difference in texture more than actual color, or something simple like silver snowflakes on blue metallic paper). The silver and blue metallic papers were always my favorite.

And the bows. Every single present under the tree, regardless of size or importance, had a different, handmade bow on it. This was something that I looked forward to doing with my Maman when we wrapped the presents for the extended family together. She bought every color of ribbon imaginable, in several different widths, metallic and matte, ribbed and smooth. We cut them in varying lengths and then curled them by placing one end of the cut ribbon on the blade of a pair of scissors, our thumb on top of that end, and then pulling the ribbon down over the blade. You could make them super-curly or very loosely curled depending on how fast you pulled the ribbon through and the angle at which it went over the blade.

Anyway, the morning was spent opening presents at the house, the dog inevitably getting jealous of the attention being taken away from her and plopping herself between me and the present I was trying to open. When that wouldn’t work, she tried the same thing with Tom, and then went to Maman and Daddul to try and get some attention from them since they weren’t on the floor opening anything. Finally, though, she resigned herself to lying right in the middle of the room, equidistant from the four of us. Tom and I also tried to match one another’s pace so that we would each see what the other was getting.

After we had finished, we had to pack up the car with the presents we were taking to Waynesburg (once we no longer lived there), to my grandparents’ house. This was no easy task, because we spent an immense amount of time on the bows for these presents as well, so we couldn’t stack them or just toss them in the back; they had to be neatly arranged. And then we were off to Waynesburg.

We usually aimed to arrive in Waynesburg around noon or 1:00 PM, which meant we usually actually arrived around 2:00 PM (don’t worry, the family all expected just that - routine). We then all arranged ourselves in the living room (which my grandparents never use unless we’re all there - they have the den for that) in some semblance of a circle and exchange gifts. I always get the same thing for my grandparents. For Pop, I buy peanut brittle, since he loves it, and I buy Gran a candle, usually a nice, three-tiered candle with some mix of wintery smells. Once a couple years ago, I felt bad for always getting them the same thing and decided to switch it up. I don’t remember what I got them anymore, but I know that it was something different. I thought it would show that I was putting a little effort into it, but it ended up that Pop was expecting my peanut brittle and had not bought any because of that, and Gran hadn’t bought a candle because she knew that I would be buying her one. So the next year I switched right back - peanut brittle and candles it is!

The usual list of people: my grandparents (Gran and Pop), my aunt Deborah (my dad’s older sister) and uncle Mark, their son Max and his girlfriend Amanda and their two children (Isabella and Xylus), my aunt Sue (my dad’s younger sister) and her husband Ross, their daughter Lori, their son Chay and his wife Michelle (and now their new baby, though I have yet to meet her), and then the four Wageners. Oh, and the dog. She comes, too.

After opening gifts at Gran and Pop’s and endless cups of coffee, we head to Deborah and Mark’s house to eat Christmas dinner. I would like to tell you a little bit about their house. Deborah and Mark’s house is my absolute favorite house. It is a beautiful, old brick house in Rogersville. There is a front porch with a table and chairs and a porch swing, but let me take you around back. We usually park around the back of their house in a small church parking lot just across the alley from their yard. When we get out of the car and cross the alley, we walk past their small garage of red-stained wood and onto a gravel path. Instead of grass, their backyard consists of several gravel paths that surround plots of very well-tended gardens with all sorts of flowers and trees. During the winter, all the trees and bushes are adorned with white Christmas lights. As you wander further up the path, you see an arch covered in Christmas lights that, once you pass through, leads you to their back patio, which is a lovely place to eat and sit when it’s a little warmer outside. Not today, though - your hands are full of presents. So, up the stairs and through the back door.

The second you enter the house, a fantastic aroma hits you. It smells like spices and Christmas and cedar and candles and pine and coffee and the beginnings of dinner. This is one of my favorite things about the McCurdy house - it smells like this all the time, not just because it’s Christmas. I love the way the smell drifts through the house with the waves of heat that rise from the heater in the kitchen at one end of the house and the heater in the foyer at the other end. If you walk around in socks in the McCurdy house, you are much more aware of the fact that it is an old house, as everything below your knees will be cold…but don’t worry, between the heaters, candles, and cooking going on in the kitchen, you will not be cold.

Speaking of the kitchen, it has a great tile floor and natural stone countertops. Deborah is a phenomenal cook, so her kitchen is a beautiful place. On the shelves above the deep sink are several glass jars filled with various types of grains, from flour to cereal. There is beautiful stained glass in the window that looks out into the neatly sculpted side yard. Copper pans hang above the stove. All around the perimeter of the room and up fairly high is a shallow shelf just filled with beautiful things - small statues, sculptures, and other very interesting pieces of art that serve as great conversation pieces.

The dining room (which you actually walked right into when you came in the back door - the kitchen would be then off to your right) has a beautiful, cold wooden floor, a very accommodating and always beautifully-set table, and a subtle, dark green plant rack that has shelf upon shelf of all sorts of different plants. When you are standing there in the doorway of the house looking at the dining room, you realize that there is only half a wall separating the dining room from the living room beyond it. In this half-wall is a very nice fireplace. Normally, you would be able to walk just to the right of that wall through to the living room, but there is a massive Christmas tree prohibiting you from doing so. The Christmas tree is always stunning - perfectly and symmetrically decorated with very pretty bows, ornaments, and garland. It looks like a Christmas tree you might see in a magazine.

The living room beyond it (accessible instead by way of a small hallway starting at the kitchen and leading past the dining room and into the foyer, which is right next to the living room) is also immaculate. You find here the same thing you find throughout the entire house - warm hues (lots of browns, oranges, and reds) and a very natural feel (thanks to the plants and wood). What I also like about this house is that it is filled with beautiful art - paintings, sculptures, small trinkets around the house - but it still feels quite cozy when you’re sitting in the living room on the comfy, burnt orange sectional that surrounds the wooden coffee table that is always filled with coffee table books (big books with lots of pictures -National Geographic publications, books on castles of the world, books about barns in Appalachia).

Anyway, that’s just a tour of the downstairs. There are two floors to the house, as well as a lovely bedroom in the attic. To get back to Christmas, though, around 4:00 PM the appetizers come out, which is what most of us look forward to the most out of the whole dinner. I personally look forward to them all year - Aunt Deborah’s homemade spinach triangles. I have yet to get them in any restaurant and have them taste half as good. After one or two (okay, or five or seven) of those and several glasses of champagne, it’s time to eat dinner.

Dinner is quite an event at the McCurdy’s. First of all, it takes two rooms to accommodate us all. I will forever be at the “kids’ table” for this one, even if I am still going at the age of 45. The kids’ table is located in the foyer, and there is usually already a plan for who is sitting where. As I mentioned before, Deborah is a fantastic chef, so you won’t find anything in the dinner that came from a can or pre-prepared package. In fact, I’m pretty sure if I wanted to eat something of this caliber at a restaurant, I simply would not be able to afford it. Fresh spices (and her own blend of spices to make dry rub), fresh ingredients in general, homemade doughs and sauces and everything else. It’s great!

And then there’s dessert. There is homemade pecan pie and homemade whipped cream, and then there is a seemingly endless assortment of Sarris chocolates. If you aren’t from near the Pittsburgh area, you probably don’t know Sarris, and that is just a shame. It’s a chocolate factory, candy and chocolate shop, and ice cream parlor in Canonsburg that produces some of the best chocolate I have ever had. (Though I have to say that nothing can compare to the chocolate truffles that I have found here in France. At all.)

Anyway, we head back to Gran and Pop’s house tired, full, and happy, and then we usually play some cards - “we” being Chay, Michelle, Gran, Pop, Tom, and I. The standards for Gran and Pop’s house are 31 and Tripoly. It gets fairly heated. Even though I only seem to get there now a few times a year, I still have a jar in Gran’s cabinet with my name on it and my card money in it.

Anyway, that’s Christmas. Or it was, until this year.



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