Ah, The Progress Chart

I have been trying to make this Christmas especially nice since the French branch of the family are traveling all the way from, well, France. But I was reminded tonight that in the process of multi-tasking, I clean forgot about The Progress Chart - the chart that is displayed prominently on the fridge door each year and marks the state of movement in the nether regions of a particular family member's... nether regions. Some people are prone to traveler's tummy, which I always mistakenly thought referred to upset stomach, diarrhea, possibly even vomiting. But, apparently, it refers to the almost total lack of progress of ingested food through the alimentary canal.
So in a show of support, we post a chart on the fridge and mark each day either with an x or a check. Mostly an x. Well, always an x. And see the sad little person off home at the end of the holiday with best wishes for better luck next year. And never knowing if a plane trip home results in a longer flight time due to a heavier load of cargo because of all the - you know - or if the plane actually stays up better and flies faster with the buoyancy of all the accompanying gas.

Waiting For Finnie

Today, I dug out the Bunnykins dishes and got Finnie's flatware ready for her. There are four silver, toddler size pieces that were used by our children when they were Finnie's age. And they are the only pieces of silverware in the house (!) - in stark contrast to Finnie's other, French grandmother, Sophie, and the beautiful array of family silver she lays on an antique white tablecloth when she gets ready for company in their country home by the sea. In the absence of the antique table linens, the truly lovely table settings, the sand and sea, I console myself with the thought that, at the very least, we should have snow and a white Christmas!
Isabelle has suggested having some plastic dishes on hand too as Finnie sometimes ends her meals with a flourish that can involve glassware and gravity!
And cooling tonight before being carefully packaged for the freezer:
Arrowroot Squares


They are at Rachael's request. We have been eating these squares at Christmas now for over thirty years. Arrowroot cookies are broken into small bits, mixed with walnuts and held together as a base with an egg, butter, cocoa, sugar mixture. Then semi sweet chocolate is spread over the top. Followed by butter icing and a heavy drizzle of melted chocolate.
Date Squares - aka Matrimonial Squares


This is Isabelle's only request and it is another old, old recipe that we have been making forever.

How To Make A Christmas Wreath

I think wreath making at Christmas time can be a great family activity and tradition. Tramping around outside is good exercise and shaping the wreath, choosing and making the bow satisfies an urge to be creative. Having said that, I always make the wreaths alone as no one else in the family has ever been particularly interested in participating. So it has become a solitary ritual that gives me great satisfaction when I look out and see the fir wreaths around the property throughout the winter. (I don't take them down after Christmas but make them part of the winter landscape.)
Yesterday, I wound my way through the wooded areas of our property to collect balsam fir tips to make this year's Christmas wreaths. I always cut the tips carefully to preserve the shape of each tree and never take more than I am actually going to use.

Today, as the first snow storm of the season developed outside, I began making wreaths on an old work table in the basement, using wire rings recycled from last year.

I bundled fir tips (about seven per bundle) and fastened each bundle onto the ring with a couple of twists of florist's wire.

The finished wreath is hung on a basement post to check for symmetry.

I make new bows or recycle them from the previous year - a fairly good quality wired ribbon bow can often endure a couple of Nova Scotia winters! The choice of color and style bow depends on the location of the wreath - on the split rail fence "up back", on the lattice work of the deck, on the front door, or on family gravestones!

I chose deep cranberry red for this wreath as it what I want to see when I look out the kitchen window at the wreath on the split rail fence.

Preparing for Christmas

Today was pound cake day - and it is late this year. Usually, I get this lovely, smooth, rich, mellow delight ready around Halloween, wrap it carefully in waxed paper, then tin foil, and store it in a tightly sealed plastic bag in the back of the fridge (as we do not have a cool pantry). There it mellows more until Christmas week. My mother usually made an almond paste that was rolled across the top of the cake before serving but these days, I sometimes just dust it with icing sugar.
I make the pound cake the way my mother and countless other women in this province have made it for many, many decades - from a recipe in the Dutch Oven cookbook out of Lunenburg County. My book, generously turned over to me by my mother when I married, no longer has a cover. Many of the pages are either loose or free of the binding and tucked in the back of the book, and covered with stains.
My mother and I varied the recipe slightly. We put in mace, vanilla, and a great deal of brandy instead of the lemon juice and rind the more sedate lady of Lunenburg County used for her family. The brandy doesn't come through by way of taste but it keeps the dense cake from drying out and makes it richer.
But I still prepare the loaf pans in the old fashioned way by lining them with brown paper and parchment paper. After the batter is turned into the pans, a cover of brown or parchment paper is set well up over the pans and tied in place with twine. The cakes then bake in a slow oven for over two hours. And the lovely smell permeates the house for hours.


And it wouldn't be Christmas without sweet breads in the mornings - Cornish saffron bread, Chelsea buns, bubble (sometimes called monkey!) bread, etc.
The Chelsea buns were set out to rise a few days ago and baked to a golden finish, wrapped, labeled, and frozen.