Category Archives: Christmas

Halfway, the cactus bloomed.

Christmas, family, food and cooking, grandchildren, my garden, , , ,

My Christmas cactus opened its first bloom on Christmas Eve. We were already halfway through our family celebrations at that point, and I had moved most of the houseplants into the Morning Room upstairs, in anticipation of needing all possible space for human bodies.

Several days before actual Christmas Day the family started to arrive, from five locales in four states. Three days later, the first departures happened, and by the afternoon of the Fourth Day of Christmas, I was alone in the house again.

Once Pathfinder and I were the only ones left, I brought the cactus with its stand downstairs again, so I can admire it throughout the day.

Before I continue with the Christmas theme, I want to show other current floral happenings in house and garden. Blooming orchids, my first picking of Chinese Broccoli, and a last Japanese anemone. The pomegranate bushes are decorating the garden with their changing color.

It was a lovely, lovely Christmastime. Soldier’s and Kate’s families couldn’t come this year, but Pearl and Nate and two of their children’s families were able to make it. The youngest child was my great-granddaughter Lori, who is 6 1/2 now. She is a lot of fun!

Lori met several family members for the first time. I wonder if in 2026 I will manage to meet my two great-grandsons who will soon be a year old. They live in two different states, but were brought together for an early Christmas, from which meet-up I received a picture to share:

It rained a lot the whole week of our festivities, but not constantly. There were enough breaks that a few short walks were taken, and one outing to the coast. While most of our group was gone on that latter trip Pearl and I both took naps. She did much of the cooking for several days, but I made one large dinner and breakfast for the crowd. Pippin and the Professor served in the kitchen one night as well. The food was abundant and appreciated!

This year I didn’t make any cookies myself. Lori’s cookies were from a King Arthur gluten-free recipe, and the spice profile was really nice. I did make some goodies to eat and give away: This  Sticky Cranberry Gingerbread was the most popular recipe in all of 2025 on the New York Times Cooking site. I’ve unlocked it as Christmas present from me to you ❤

I forgot to take a picture of mine. I followed the advice of several cooks who added ginger, more cranberries, and less sugar. It was enjoyed very much by everyone, with a dollop of whipped cream on top. I want to make it again soon.

I made Candied Espresso Walnuts, and our longstanding traditional California Fruitcake/Jesus Birthday Cake/Nativity Cake, which I hadn’t done for some years. People sliced from one big loaf for breakfast and snacks here, and I gifted the others. This time I made it with a gluten-free flour blend, which worked pretty well.

Lori took the initiative to find this felted hummingbird ornament among the things her family had brought, and gave it to me early. She had seen other hummingbirds on the tree and didn’t want to delay.

When she was ready to go out and explore my garden and greenhouse, her shoes were in the bedroom where her mom was sleeping, so her father let her use his boots.

I love my Christmas tree this year! It is a Nordmann fir from Home Depot — amazingly symmetrical and well filled out. Last year the big LED lights I had on my tree were so bright it pained me to look in that direction, so I bought tiny incandescent lights this year and they are perfect.

I had laid in bright materials for making paper chains, in case Lori would like to do such a craft with me. She wasn’t interested, so I made three long chains after everyone had arrived and were doing all the work around me. We hung them on the black railings that had recently been painted; after that, I somehow had the energy also to hang up the ribbons pinned with the prettiest old Christmas cards.

Because of the comings and goings all week, I didn’t wait for Christmas Day or Epiphany, but put the Baby Jesus and the Wise Men in their places at the outset. I’d like to wait until the Presentation of Christ on February 2nd to take down the tree, and to put away the Nativity scene. I’ll need to gather some fresh greenery from the bike path before then!

I know that by today, most people are thinking ahead to the new year coming in, so I wanted to post these images of the end of 2025 while it is still December. Happy New Year! I wish you courage and Hope in the coming year, and may the good desires of your heart be fulfilled in 2026 ❤

And every stone shall cry.

Christmas, poetry, quotes,
Model of the Second Temple at the time of Christ.

Anthony Esolen features this poem by Richard Wilbur on his site Word & Song; here is a clip from his introduction:

“Wilbur takes his inspiration from the words of Jesus, when he was entering Jerusalem at the beginning of that fateful and sacred week, and the people hailed him, laying palm branches before him and crying out, ‘Blessed be the king who comes in the name of the Lord!’ Then the Pharisees appealed to Jesus, asking him to make the people be quiet, but Jesus said, ‘I tell you, if these should hold their peace, the stones would immediately cry out.’ And we may remember, too, that when the disciples tried to play the tour guide with Jesus, remarking upon the grandeur of the Temple and its precincts, Jesus, who loved the Temple dearly from when he was a boy, said that there would soon come a time when not one stone would be left upon a stone.”

A CHRISTMAS HYMN

A stable lamp is lighted
Whose glow shall wake the sky;
The stars shall bend their voices,
And every stone shall cry.
And every stone shall cry,
And straw like gold shall shine;
A barn shall harbor heaven,
A stall become a shrine.

This child through David’s city
Shall ride in triumph by;
The palm shall strew its branches,
And every stone shall cry.
And every stone shall cry,
Though heavy, dull, and dumb,
And lie within the roadway
To pave his kingdom come.

Yet he shall be forsaken,
And yielded up to die;
The sky shall groan and darken,
And every stone shall cry.
And every stone shall cry
For stony hearts of men:
God’s blood upon the spearhead,
God’s love refused again.

But now, as at the ending,
The low is lifted high;
The stars shall bend their voices,
And every stone shall cry.
And every stone shall cry
In praises of the child
By whose descent among us
The worlds are reconciled.

-Richard Wilbur

Born into this world.

Christmas, poetry, ,

“What Herod did then, is still being done by so many present day Herods. This scarred and wounded world is the world into which Jesus was born, the world he came to save, and amongst those brought by his blood through the grave and gate of death and into the bliss of Heaven are those children of Bethlehem who died for his name without ever knowing him.”

So Malcolm Guite introduces his poem on the occasion of the commemoration of the Holy Innocents, the Hebrew children of whom Herod ordered the massacre, in an attempt to do away with a perceived challenger to his power. This poem is found in Guite’s anthology, Waiting on the Word.

REFUGEE

We think of him as safe beneath the steeple,
Or cosy in a crib beside the font,
But he is with a million displaced people
On the long road of weariness and want.
For even as we sing our final carol
His family is up and on that road,
Fleeing the wrath of someone else’s quarrel,
Glancing behind and shouldering their load.
Whilst Herod rages still from his dark tower
Christ clings to Mary, fingers tightly curled,
The lambs are slaughtered by the men of power,
And death squads spread their curse across the world.
But every Herod dies, and comes alone
To stand before the Lamb upon the throne.

-Malcolm Guite

You can read the whole post and hear Fr. Guite reading his poem here: “The Holy Innocents (Refugee)”

Traveling lightly and untrammeled.

Christmas, Nativity, poetry, , ,

THE MAGI

Christmas Eve, the Word made Flesh,
We put the baby in the manger,
But could not add them to the crèche—
They still had miles of doubt and danger.
They set out from the staircase landing,
Traveling lightly and untrammeled:
One was kneeling, one was standing,
And our favorite was cameled.
Past falling cards and other perils
They crossed the piano’s dark plateau
Where someone fumbled Christmas carols
And sang of silence, stars and snow.
They camped wherever they were able,
A potted fern for an oasis.
From shelf to windowsill to table,
Night by night, we’d change their places.
The thrill of our own gifts forgot,
No longer new, the batteries
Gone dead, at last they’d reach the spot,
One king already on his knees,
One kneeling, while the camel grunted—
Twelve whole days of Christmas hence—
To give what no child ever wanted:
Gold and myrrh and frankincense.

-A.E. Stallings

Bassano the Younger, Adoration of the Magi