planning.

this year for the first time i'm entirely in charge of producing thanksgiving dinner.  i've been actively involved in making other thanksgiving dinners, but i've never planned and made the whole thing.  and it's kind of fun to sit down and plan a menu and figure out a schedule.  so here's what my thanksgiving will look like:

the menu:

• roast turkey breast with lemon and thyme
• mashed potatoes and gravy
• oven-baked bread stuffing
• sweet white corn
• homemade (of course!) dinner rolls
• pumpkin pie (need i really designate it as homemade? really?  anything but is simply inadequate)

the schedule:

tuesday:

• buy challah, slice in half-inch slices and leave out over night to dry

wednesday:

• make gravy.  since a turkey breast won't produce enough drippings to make gravy, i'm doing this step in advance using cooks illustrated's "all purpose gravy" recipe (which looks delicious)
• make pie crust and filling and bake.  i may even dig out my mini fall leaf cookie cutters and decorate the pies
• cut the dried slices of challah into half-inch cubes and leave out over night to dry out some more

thursday:

• brine the turkey (again using cooks illustrated's directions; i do love my cooks illustrated subscription)
• mix up rolls and let dough double in size
• peel potatoes and cover with water
• punch down roll dough and put rolls on pan to rise again
• prep turkey and get it into the oven
• prep dressing and get it into the oven
• boil and mash potatoes
• re-heat gravy
• bake rolls
• boil corn
• carve turkey
• EAT!!!

can i just say that thanksgiving is one of the very best holidays?  yumminess! 

{p.s. let me know if you want any of the recipes i'm using.}

accompaniment.

chocolate chaud.

3 cups whole milk
1/3 cup water
1/3 cup sugar
6 oz. dark chocolate (i use one that's 80% cocoa)

break chocolate into small pieces (i put mine in a baggie and beat it with my rolling pin--very therapeutic) bring milk, water, and sugar just to a boil and remove from heat.  whisk in chocolate until it is melted.  using an immersion blender, blend the chocolate for about a minute until it is frothy.  if you don't have an immersion blender, you can put the chocolate in a regular blender and blend it for a minute.  it's very yummy served with a toasted egg bread (challah or brioche, for example).  but it's best served as an accompaniment to decorating for christmas.  yummy!

disco.

today it's only wednesday.  and it's been a long, yucky wednesday.  so i'm going to go to bed and sleep.  but first i thought i'd show you what has me plugging along this week:

come sunday, i'll be hanging ornaments (including several disco balls) and stringing lights and playing the first christmas music of the season.  and that, my friends, makes it okay that i had a long, yucky wednesday.

forward.

a year ago we voted.  it was a day of celebration—celebration of the fading of america’s legacy of racism; celebration of a new, more hopeful chapter in american presidential history.  i watched obama and his family take the stage in chicago and teared up along with hundreds of thousands of other americans.  i teared up because there in front of me and millions of other americans was the evidence that what we have proclaimed for centuries was a little more true—all mankind was just a little more equal when america elected a young black man, the son of a mixed-race marriage which was not even legal in many states of the union when he was born.

i celebrated that night, but it was a bittersweet celebration.  while my presidential candidate had won, carrying his nation forward towards equality, my state voted against equality by passing prop. 8.  all night as i watched the presidential election results roll in, i kept tabs on the prop. 8 battle.  and all night, it kept a damper on my spirits.  i have no doubt that in fifty years, this nation will look back to the elections and laws regarding gay marriage and will see them as the shameful equal of laws and elections that denied african americans the right to vote and to receive an equal education and to marry where they loved.

tonight there’s a chance that this nation will start to move out of the shadow of anti-gay bigotry.  in maine, the electorate will decide whether to uphold the law passed by their duly elected representatives legalizing gay marriage.  and right now—right now they have upheld gay marriage 53% to 47%.  i can only hope that this slim majority will be as tenacious as the equally slim majority by which prop. 8 passed in california a year ago.  perhaps this small state will live up to its motto (dirigo) tonight and lead the nation another step towards equality.

handmade

j(wh)'s birthday was monday. he and i have talked a few times about gift-giving in the abstract--meaningful gifts, rather than gifts given for form; not letting gift-giving turn into a circus of materialism and competition; how wonderful the various handmade gifts we've received are (he got a particularly wonderful gift for christmas from J&J&kiddoes). at christmas we didn't exchange gifts. instead we spent christmas eve morning together and j(wh) made me funny eggs.

so when i thought about what to do for his birthday, i decided i'd steal an idea from my friends brooke and john. so j(wh)'s gift is a day full of whatever he'd like to do. within limits (see below). and a little handmade book that explains that, which will also be used to remember the day when I fill it with photos and notes after the day of j(wh).















{on a side note, it was a sheer joy to sit and make something. it's been far too long. i think i'll keep at it. and i think i'll stick to small books for a while. i've always loved them and making them seems ever so much better than buying them. addendum: tonight i bought myself a bookmaking book at borders (love those coupons) and discovered this book is called a 'star accordion' book.}

party!

a couple weeks ago at atomic, i overheard a friend commenting about her upcoming 80s birthday party and didn't think much of it until j(wh) mentioned we'd been invited. so it sat on a backburner in my mind as i graded papers and put up with back pain (yuck!) until the night before the party when, again chatting with friends at atomic, it came out that they were all dressing up for the 80s party. K mentioned molly ringwald, which got the wheels turning in my head. i've been told more than once that i look like her, so i thought it would be fun to play that up. here's what my molly-focused brain cooked up:

a green straw hat which i bought about 12 years ago and which i still have kicking around my wardrobe.

to which i added some bright pink and white silk flowers and a pale green ribbon i picked up for $5 at joann's.

bright pink and purple double-disk earrings found amidst the retro accessories target's selling these days.

my little brother's white, long-sleeved dress shirt, which is (of course) way too big for me.

a bright pink, wide elastic belt, also kicking around my wardrobe for the last however many years.

a green cotton double skirt with big bucket pockets and eyelet on the underskirt.

incredibly bright pink fishnet stockings i found on clearance in portland, oregon about three years ago.

clear plastic shoes i found on a sales rack at t.j. maxx and picked up just for a purpose like this.

and let me tell you--add up those elements, and you'll channel molly ringwald circa pretty in pink perfectly. take a look for yourself:


so i threw together my hat, donned my duds, applied my face (a truly special occasion--i actually wore make-up), and headed off to a local japanese market where i was meeting j(wh) for a bite to eat before heading to his place and from there the party. i naturally got a few looks on the way in. all the effort was worth it when i caught sight of j(wh) and our friend T. j(wh) was expecting me dressed up, but he was still surprised. and T--T didn't even recognize me.

after a dash up the freeway and j(wh) cleaning up, we headed off to the party where our friends greeted me with laughter and praise for the outfit. and i thought that was it. the party was tons of fun. great food. L (birthday girl) and a few friends dancing ballroom to some classic 80s tunes. lots of dancing (not the best idea in the clear vinyl + fishnets combo), including a soul train line. but i thought the fun of seeing each other in costume was the sole purpose for dressing up.

much to my surprise there was a contest. and to my even bigger surprise, the prize was two tickets to the police (and elvis costello) concert in may. so i was excited to be one of the three finalists called to the stage, but a bit apprehensive when it was audience choice who would win. but i was having fun that night and decided, what the hell--may as well ham it up. so when the emcee asked for applause for 'molly,' i pulled the pose in that picture and blew the audience a kiss. and when it was narrowed down to our friend F (who came dressed as flavor flav, complete with an enormous clock hanging around his neck) and me, i kissed him on the cheek. and blew more kisses to the audience before L and her two friends picked me as the winner.

so much fun! it's been ages since i had such a good time at a party. well, maybe not ages, but at least since new year's. i shouldn't be surprised. life's been much more fun with j(wh) at my side. can you see why?

six.

and seven. because for valentine's day, you get two kooser treasures.


Screech Owl

All night each reedy whinny
from a bird no bigger than a heart
flies out of a tall black pine
and, in a breath, is taken away
by the stars. Yet, with small hope
from the center of darkness
it calls out again and again.


This Paper Boat

Carefully placed upon the future,
it tips from the breeze and skims away,
frail thing of words, this valentine,
so far to sail. And if you find it
caught in the reeds, its message blurred,
the thought that you are holding it
a moment is enough for me.


i love these two. because i've spent so much of my life hoping for love. and no matter how much that hope seemed to simply disappear in darkness, i never lost it. and because loving feels like sending something fragile out into the world, knowing it could so easily be tattered and torn. but also knowing that if it's received, it's enough. even if it's no longer what you thought it should be when you sent it out. it's more beautiful when i let it be without trying to fit it to 'shoulds' and 'oughts.'

five.

The Bluet

Of all the flowers, the bluet has
the sweetest name, two syllables
that form on the lips, then fall
with a tiny, raindrop splash
into a suddenly bluer morning.

I offer you mornings like that,
fragrant with tiny blue blossoms--
each with four petals, each with a star
at its heart. I would give you whole fields
of wild perfume if only

you could be mine, if you were not--
like the foolish bluet (also called
Innocence)--always holding your face
to the fickle, careless, fly-by kiss
of the Clouded Sulphur Butterfly.



what a dilemma--the whimsy of a butterfly or the lure of fragrant flowers. i admit--i could be distracted momentarily by the butterfly. but mornings full of scents i love bring peace. i think i'd choose the bluet morning...

four.

In the Alley

In the alley behind the florist's shop,
a huge white garbage truck was parked and idling.
In a cloud of exhaust, two men in coveralls
and stocking caps, their noses dripping,
were picking through the florist's dumpster
and each had selected a fistful of roses.

As I walked past, they gave me a furtive,
conspiratorial nod, perhaps sensing
that I, too (though in my business suit and tie)
am a devotee of garbage--an aficianado
of the wilted, the shopworn, and the free--
and that I had for days been searching
beneath the heaps of worn-out, faded words
to find this brief bouquet for you.



i wish i could make such beautiful bouqets out of words.

three.

In a Light Late-Winter Wind

In a light late-winter wind
the oak trees are scattering valentines
over the snow--dark red
like the deep-running, veinous blood
of the married, returning
again and again to the steady heart.

This leaf is yours, friend,
picked from the heart-shaped hoofprint
of a deer. She stood here
under the apple tree during the night,
kicking up sweetness, her great eyes
watching the sleeping house.


i love watching leaves fall--drifting aimlessly towards the ground and then, sometimes, catching an updraft and dancing back toward their homes before succumbing to gravity again. and i love that kooser has turned them into little tokens of love.

two.

another treasure from ted kooser's book of valentine poems:


Chocolate Checkers

In a tiny green park, chopped out
of a corner of Commerce, I saw
two men in rags with their backpacks
lying beside them. Red nose to red nose
and old boots toe to toe, they were
playing a game of chocolate checkers,
using candy for pieces, and eating
the pieces they'd won from each other
and laughing like crazy.
It was Commerce
who'd given this park to the city,
and Commerce looked on--the bank
and the telephone company
standing behind mirrored windows,
disapproving--not of chocolate checkers,
per se, but of that kind of people,
laughing and playing with candy
on an imported Italian marble table
with neatly set black-and-white tiles.

celebrate!

my new year's eve usually goes like this:

• help make lots of finger food.
  
• play games with family.
  
• help eat lots of finger food.
  
• make some half-hearted noise at midnight.
  
• go to bed shortly thereafter.
  

sometimes they're not even that exuberant--i've been known to go to bed well before midnight. new year's just seems like a holiday to be celebrated with others. for years, i haven't had friends around with whom to go dancing or to a party--not since my high school best friend got married when i was 21. and my family aren't so much party people. or dancing people. and, to be totally honest, i never have anyone to kiss at midnight, which bothers me way more than it should.

this year the pajamas came out early, but not for early bedtime. they were the attire of choice for atomic ballroom's new year's eve pajama jammie jam. so, after ramen (yummy) and wandering around isamu noguchi's california experience, j(wh) and i headed to atomic to change into jammies and dance the night away. when i told my mama that the party was a pajama party, she was duly horrified. she seemed to think it would be okay if it were just girls, but... Apparently men and women aren't supposed to see each other in pajamas. so i figured i needed photographic evidence of The Great Pajama Scandal of 2007 (i needed some scandal of the year; good thing atomic stepped up and provided a last-minute opportunity).

the good people at atomic do know how to throw a party. big screen video gaming for those needing a break from dancing (not something i was interested in, but i suppose some people appreciated it). brightly colored helium balloons. streamers, party hats, and noisemakers. a breakfast buffet spread out not only on the table, but also hanging overhead (little boxes of cereal hung from the ceiling). an 11:00 midnight-in-arizona toast toast (in other words a toast made with toast). and of course great music and lots of dancing.

i spent most of the night dancing. everyone at atomic is so nice--especially for putting up with me and my beginner efforts at dancing. it helps so much to dance with leads who know what they're doing. if only i could follow better... someday.

of course we took a break from dancing at midnight to ring in the new year with streamers and noisemakers and a sparkling cider toast. so much fun to be part of a group welcoming a new year. and of course so much fun to be there with j(wh). and i was right--new year's is much better with someone to kiss.

it's hard to pick a highlight of the night. but if i had to choose, i think i'd say it was the food i shared with j(wh). we bypassed the cookie cereal and just put oreo cookies in a bowl and poured milk over them, let them get good and soggy, and ate them with a spoon. yummy! yet more evidence that j(wh) is a man after my own heart. and i'm pretty sure the milk-soaked oreos are responsible for his beautiful arms. either that or the quaker oats.

dance!
in october, i went out with j(wh)--dinner, hot cocoa at my favorite local cafe, and lots of conversation. by the end of the night, i knew i'd like to go out with him again so his day-after follow-up email (which has become dating protocol in our e-world, i think) inviting me out again was a good thing. except it was an invitation to go swing dancing.

now, i haven't danced at all in probably 5 years. maybe more. and swing? i'd dabbled in it 15 years ago or so, but my version of swing was complete slop. and j(wh)--he actually knows how to dance. so the idea of going dancing with him was intimidating at best and scary at worst. i turned my 'no' into a joke and suggested alternatives.

so we've done some of the alternatives, but the dancing invite stayed open. until i finally decided to bite the bullet and put myself squarely outside my comfort zone. so last friday night i went dancing. an hour-and-a-half of basic swing classes first. then 4 hours of social dancing. and the only knowledge i had going in was a couple of 5-minute parking lot tutorials with j(wh) a couple of weeks ago.

the classes helped. a lot. it also helped that j(wh) knows what he's doing and danced with me periodically. it's amazing what i could learn when dancing with someone who knows the dance and is a good lead (as opposed to the guys with spaghetti arms--impossible to follow). it also helped that everyone was incredibly nice and put up with my beginner's ineptitude. everyone including one of my current students who showed up. i have to say, it's a bit odd to dance with a current student...

honestly i didn't know what to expect. i decided i'd go and try something new. and i decided i would just relax and enjoy myself. so i expected to have fun. but i didn't know what to expect beyond a fun evening.

what i found was exuberance. part of that comes from the music, which bursts with vibrant energy. part of it comes from the style of dance, which responds to the music's energy. but i think most of it came from the people. i danced a lot of the night (which surprised me, quite honestly; i've never been to a dance where i was asked to dance so much). but i sat out quite a few songs, too. which i enjoyed. because it let me watch people dancing. and it was so very evident how much they loved what they were doing. it looked and felt like a simple celebration of being alive. and i loved being part of it. i think i'm officially hooked...


{edited to eliminate inadvertent rudeness...}

ephemeral.
last night i made my first trip of the summer to the hollywood bowl (first and hopefully not last, since the bowl will be hosting a variety of interesting artists this summer). and what a fantastic line-up. the evening started with band of horses, whose performance made me want to go home and listen more. i started listening to them a few months ago and liked their album, but i've been a little obsessed with wilco and arcade fire this spring, so everyone else has gotten short shrift. their live performance underscored their music's lyricism--a lyricism that is beautiful and soulful without being self-indulgent. and left me anticipating their new album (i think they said it's due out in october).

they were followed up by andrew bird with his fantastic whistling abilities. i suppose anyone who can whistle has fantastic abilities compared to me (can't whistle to save my life), but he can whistle a tune while accompanying himself on guitar or violin or glockenspiel. which seems pretty fantastic to me. but his fantastic ability isn't limited to whistling and playing. his lyrics are fanciful, full of understated magic. and his performance, with a crazy contraption that looked like two old-school phonograph trumpets attached to each other whirling around behind him, reinforced that magic. i'm not sure exactly what the contraption did to the sound, but i'm sure it was there for more than visual effect...

the headliners last night, and the reason we went (though band of horses and andrew bird added to the appeal), were the decemberists. they played with the l.a. phil. which was interesting. i'd not seen a rock band play with a philharmonic before. i liked it. there were moments when the sound was a bit out of balance. but the decemberists' music is so vibrantly orchestral that having all those horns and a harp and strings behind them didn't detract from the music at all. the orchestra, the beautiful summer night, the music, and the band all combined to make for a magical night.

no small part of that magic was due to their singer, colin meloy, who is a pure delight. his performance had me laughing--that laughter that must be let out because you've seen something so beautiful that you can't keep it inside. his exuberance was infectious. his antics during the encore--a jaunt around the semicircle wall in front of the stage complete with mimed guitar solo played in tandem with chris funk, asking the crowd to indulge him by waving their cell phones--had the crowd begging for more.

as we walked out last night, down the long hill to find our bus back to the car, i felt at complete peace with the world. there's something so beautifully human about music--about thousands of people gathering, singing, cheering for something as ephemeral as a song. a celebration of being. i don't ever want to go without it again.

infiltrated.
four years ago when i started my phd program, i couldn't listen to music and work. anything other than classical music distracted me. it got in my head. made me want to listen to the words, which kept me from capturing the words i was reading. its beat became an incessant, demanding irritant that made it nearly impossible to concentrate.

and now--now i can't imagine working without music. i'm sitting in the library grading papers right now. listening to the brazilian girls. and as i was typing a comment on the last paper i graded, i realized i was typing in time to the music. which made me realize the extent to which music has infiltrated my life. it's rhythms and language and energy coloring my world in ways music never has before. i'll never know it the way some of my friends do. i'll always carry with me the near-silence of my childhood and teen years (no television til i was 14; no real radio listening til i was 16). but that silence shapes and informs my listening as much as my friends' knowledge shapes theirs, and not just in negative ways.

thanks go to my friends (you know who you are) who have pushed me (gently and sometimes not so gently) towards infusing my life with music. i find myself dancing often. sometimes just inside. sometimes literally. and the old men in the library can look at me funny all they want as i do so, sitting in my chair bopping to the music while i work. at least i'm not giving in to the compulsion to sing out loud...

awake.
that's how i still feel more than 24 hours after the arcade fire concert ended. i went down to san diego yesterday with friends to see their show. and i was looking forward to it. but i really had no idea what i was in for. i was actually a little worried i'd be too tired to enjoy it, as i'd only slept about four hours the night before. and the opening act (though not bad) left me uninspired.

but that ended quickly--very quickly--as soon as the arcade fire took the stage. the first song had me moving. and by the end of the second, i had developed a crush on win butler, their lead singer. i spent the rest of the evening singing along and dancing. along with the rest of the crowd.

that theater last night was pulsing with life--with the reciprocity between artists and audience that makes possible not only art, but also being. a lot of that life came from the performers. win's larger than life stage presence. regine's magnetic persona. everyone of them with their obvious enthusiasm for the music they were making. and the constant motion. dancing. trading instruments with each other not only between songs, but occasionally during a song. it was incredible.

i think the thing i'm most amazed by is the tension between disillusionment and hope i find in their music. there's an exuberance in the collective...i don't know what to call it...humming? oo-ing? whatever it is, it's exuberant. and the 'hey' that punctuates 'no cars go' is overflowing with enthusiasm. the lush fullness of their sound, with all the many instruments they play, fills me up more than almost any other rock music. but there's the darkness of 'ocean of noise' with it's 'ocean of violence between you and me' and it's disavowal of choice. and 'my body is a cage' with its disgust for our 'age that calls darkness light.' but somehow, for me, the hope is what stays. maybe it's that the problems are recognized and named. that the false religiosity and the destructiveness of self-righteousness are revealed. and in their place there's an insistence that 'friendship and love' must have a home and that 'my mind holds the key.'

if you don't know their music, you should. and if you have the chance to see them live, you should.

after the concert ended, we waited around for a while--hoping they would come out and play for a bit in the lobby (as we've heard they do with some regularity). they didn't. and eventually we crossed the street to 7-11 for some drinks and were heading back to the car when we found the three trucks queued up to take their gear off to their next gig. and we decided we'd wait around a bit longer to see if the band came out that way. they did. and we met win. who was super nice and who signed our tickets (the crush lives on).


and now--now i just need to see them again. because last night i went home feeling awake and alive. and that has stayed with me all day today. a hum of energy beneath everything i do.

homage.
in the last week, i've found two or three references to a recent article about world-renowned violinist joshua bell busking in a washington, d.c. metro station. tonight i took a break and read the original article.

it was a stunt. have the best violinist in the nation (one who is paid up to $1000/minute) stand in a busy metro station during rush hour playing difficult and beautiful music on a $3.5 million stradivarius and see just how many people stop. or even notice. when consulted, the music director of the national symphony orchestra surmised that 70-100 people would stop (a small crowd) and 40 or so may know the quality of what they heard. the reality? 27 gave money (a total of $32.17). only 7 stopped to listen. two or three knew the quality of what they heard. and one recognized bell (who is highly recognizable, as he's something of a classical music heartthrob).

the article is beautifully written and well worth the time it takes to read. the accompanying video clips are interesting to watch. as i read, and watched, i longed to have been there. to have discovered that kind of music being played in a metro station. would i have stopped? i don't know. it wouldn't have been the first time, as i often stopped to listen to buskers in both london and boston. and i probably would have dropped some cash into his case before i went on my way. but i know myself. and i know i can get caught up in the stress and busy-ness of life and, while i'm positive i would have noticed, i may have hurried through without much pause.

the article's questions about context and framing in relationship to beauty are of great interest to me. i've been thinking about those questions for a long time. and some of my favorite intellectual arguments with friends have arisen in response to those questions. i'll never forget the day that started with a conversation about the relationship between context and art/beauty on a bus to stratford upon avon and ended with the most incredible adaptation of 12th night. it was one of those days that stays with you for years, reverberating with thought and laughter and beauty. i enjoyed the article because of its subject and its questioning.

but the thing that made me stop as i was reading was john picarello's reaction. a fan of joshua bell (though he didn't recognize him), picarello came off the escalator, heard the music and immediately stopped. he spent nearly ten minutes standing in l'enfant plaza engrossed in the music. having trained as a violinist as a child and teenager, with the aspiration of becoming a professional musician, he recognized the perfection of the playing and the quality of the instrument. he called it "a treat, just a brilliant, incredible way to start the day." he was bewildered by the fact that no one else seemed to recognize what was happening.

this is what really made me stop and notice picarello:

"When he left, Picarello says, 'I humbly threw in $5.' It was humble: You can actually see that on the video. Picarello walks up, barely looking at Bell, and tosses in the money. Then, as if embarrassed, he quickly walks away from the man he once wanted to be."

here was a man who loves music. who once aspired to be what joshua bell is, and who is now a supervisor at the u.s. postal service because he knew he didn't have the ability to make it as a concert violinist. but he still knew the beauty of what he heard and acknowledged it. this response resonated with me. because i often feel this way in my own work. i love the literature i teach. it's magical. because it's not just stories, words conveying set meanings. it's infinitely complex--always greater than the sum of its parts. the work i do--writing about literature; teaching literature--is a form of homage. a humble acknowledgement of beauty and wisdom and raw humanity of a kind i know is beyond my ability to produce.

surprises.
here are a few of the beautiful things this week has brought me:

i love green flowers. when i was at virginia, i would often visit jefferson's gardens when i needed a little stress relief or just a quiet place to sit and soak up some beauty. in one of the gardens, all of the flowers are green. there's something magical about green flowers, something a bit mysterious. last week, RAF sent me home with these gorgeous green orchids that were growing rampantly in his yard in the shade of the most beautiful avocado trees i've seen.

my sisters helped provide some spots of beauty this week, too. they each sent a package. just something small. but i love getting packages in the mail, even when i know what's in them. and they sent lovely cards which made me miss them and wish i could live close to them, but which also made me happy that my sisters are my best friends. i don't know what i'd do without them, and i hope they know that.

and every day this week, i've left home and seen all of the new growth on my mom and dad's roses. i love that new growth on roses is red, as it is on some deciduous trees. it's almost counterintuitive to look at springtime plants and see the same shades of red that mark the coming of fall at the end of the year. and all of that red new growth on the roses promises abundant color and heady fragrance for the weeks and months ahead.

spring is almost here and the world is beautiful.

epiphany.
until a month ago, i had never spent much time thinking about the gifts of the wise men. all i knew was that they represented great wealth and that we exchange gifts at christmas partially in honor of the fact that the magi brought gifts to the baby jesus. historically, the arrival of the magi was celebrated on january 6—twelfth night or epiphany (in some traditions, this was seen as the actual day of christ’s birth) and the twelve days between christmas and january 6 were festival days. so i thought i would share what i learned to celebrate twelfth night.

last month when i began preparing a lesson about the christmas story, i started exploring the connotations of the gifts the wise men brought to the infant jesus (or the toddler, as my father believes he was by the time the magi appeared). gold, frankincense, and myrrh. the only one i’ve ever understood on any level was gold, the precious metal we continue to value as a symbol of wealth and status and, when we occasionally think figuratively, purity. so i spent a little time looking up these gifts of the wise men and was struck by what i discovered.

the aromatic resin frankincense was not only used in perfumes, but also in the holy incense used during sacrificial rites. myrrh, another resinous substance, was even more valuable than frankincense—sometimes worth more than its weight in gold. like frankincense, myrrh was used not only in perfumes but also in holy incense and ointments. it was used specifically in ointments for healing and in rites of purification.

certainly these gifts brought to the baby jesus meant much more than their monetary worth. this child had come into the world as the ultimate sacrifice. the frankincense the magi brought marked christ’s willing self-sacrifice that all mankind might be cleansed of sin and live again. his ministry and atonement both brought healing beyond any that could have come through the medicinal or ritual value of myrrh. and just as myrrh represented purification, christ’s atonement promised all men and women the possibility of absolute purity.

gold is perhaps the most interesting of the three gifts the magi brought. gold was used anciently in many of the ways it is used now—not only as a marker of wealth, but also as an ornament of places and tools with cultural and religious significance. it can be easily dismissed as a relatively simple symbol of reverence, if not already dismissed as nothing but a marker of wealth. but gold presents itself throughout the bible not only as a marker of wealth and respect for things sacred, but also as a symbol of evil. the false idol the children of israel built in their weakness was a golden calf. the love of money is the root of all evil. the gold the magi brought represented not onlychrist's purity and the magi's devotion to and worship of the son of god. i believe it also represents a willingness on our part to sacrifice our own pride, our evil tendencies, our false gods so that we might instead take up the gospel of christ. when we do so, we will be motivated not by wealth or pride or evil, but by the desire for healing of our hurts and a return to purity. and we will strive to help others find that same healing and purity. these sacrifices—christ’s sacrifice of his own life and blood and our sacrifice of our pride, sin, and egocentrism and the dedication of our lives—together make peace, love, and hope possible. may the new year be full of these gifts as we do his work.

christmas!!
jana tagged me with this meme and i love christmas too much to resist. and i'll just go ahead and pass it on to anyone who wants to share.

1. eggnog or hot chocolate?
i only do eggnog if it’s southern comfort’s vanilla spice eggnog, which is superyum. but usually i’d go for hot chocolate. with cinnamon. and sometimes with chile pepper, too.

2. does santa wrap presents or just put them under the tree?
santa lays presents out unwrapped; each child gets a different chair in the room and their presents are marked by their stockings (which have been duly stuffed with scrumptious things and little gadgets). presents from the parents are wrapped and go under the piano.

3. colored lights on the tree, or white?
beautiful, bright colors.

4. do you hang mistletoe?
when we hang something like this, it’s a kissing ball not mistletoe. but it doesn’t happen every year.

5. when do you put your decorations up?
first week of december.

6. what is your favorite holiday dish (excluding dessert)?
my mama’s rolls, which are so delicious. no lousy breadmaker roll can even begin to compare, not even in your wildest imagination.

7. what's a favorite holiday memory from your childhood?
my parents often provided christmas for other families. one year they had all of us kids (there’s seven of us) help them do the shopping and delivery. i’ll never forget that woman’s face when we showed up at her door. reading the Christmas story with my family on Christmas eve is a favorite, too.

8. when and how did you learn the truth about santa?
i think i knew by the time i was nine or so--maybe even earlier, but i repressed the knowledge and continued pretending that he was real for a couple more years.

9. do you open a gift on christmas eve?
nope. that’s sacrilege.

10. how do you decorate your christmas tree?
with any ornament that strikes my fancy. i have everything from blown glass to handmade. i like them if they sparkle. i like them a bit funky. and i have a penchant for ornaments with things inside them (like my snowmen with snow inside or my snowglobe ornament). and i put disco balls on my tree—ornaments and strings of beads that look like disco balls. they do lovely things with the lights, which is, after all, what makes a tree so magical.

11. snow! love it or dread it?
love love love. visiting in, living in, frolicking in, walking in. love it.

12. can you ice skate?
sorta. but not as well as i roller skate. which takes me to. . .

13. do you remember your favorite gift?
the gift i remember the most is my white roller derby skates with bright pink wheels and stoppers. i got them when i was about ten or eleven and my mama bought them too big for me so i can still wear them twenty years later. i love my roller skates. a close second was my dream princess bed, doll and horse. man did i love that doll with her horse (which had flowers in its hair) and her bed (which had a wind up dream sequence which rolled under a screen underneath her pillow; when you laid the doll on it the dream sequence was supposed to scroll beneath the pillow; yeah, that’s right—under the pillow where it couldn’t be seen; i suppose the point was to know that the doll was having the dream; it was all pink, of course).

14. what's the most important thing about the holidays for you?
family and the savior. but really, i love it all. every last little bit of it.

15. what is your favorite holiday dessert?
in general, it’s pie—mostly pumpkin pie, but also coconut cream pie (my mama makes the best; i have never tasted cream pie that good anywhere else; and my pastry chef best friend says that the fancy-pants pastry chef she works for, who is famous for his coconut cream pie, doesn’t make cream pie as well as my mama does). but every other year or so my mama makes butter tarts which melt in my mouth and which taste like decadence incarnate. they’re pretty damn tasty, too.

16. what is your favorite holiday tradition?
reading the christmas story with my family on christmas eve. and going to the park with my nieces and nephews on christmas day to throw a frisbee or a ball or ride scooters. the last few years, we've started tracking santa's progress through norad, which my nieces and nephews just eat up. it's become a fun tradition.

17. what tops your tree?
i just got my tree topper this year, after spending four or five years looking for one i liked. it’s a silver, glittery angel made in a bit of an abstract style. i’m pleased.

18. which do you prefer - giving or receiving?
is there a difference? i love it all.

19. what is your favorite christmas song?
you want me to pick one favorite christmas song? are you crazy? away in a manger; joy to the world; o come, o come emmanuel; white christmas; mary did you know; bach’s christmas oratorio; the messiah; o come all ye faithful; i heard the bells on christmas day. really, i’ll stop now. there aren’t many christmas songs i don’t like. and there are a good many i love.

20. candy canes! yuck or yum?
they’re okay. i like them best when they melt into my hot chocolate.