Kitty’s Fruitcake Cookies

Kitty and Randolph always stopped by my grandparents’ house in Blackshear, Georgia on Christmas Day with a big, round, heavy tin of fresh-baked fruitcake cookies. The grownups would sit in the parlor on the antique furniture by the silver tinsel tree and talk and talk and talk, while my brother and I would figure out ways to steal cookies. We didn’t know we weren’t supposed to like fruitcake cookies, so we liked them – and still do. We are among the small percentage of the population who can actually savor a slice of fruitcake with a cup of coffee.

My grandparents were natural social distancers back in the 1970s, but Kitty and Randolph were part of their small circle of friends- close enough to make it past the front door. Kitty was always smiling and laughing, but Randolph was quiet and reserved.

My maternal grandparents lived life unto themselves. They both worked – she in the Sears Catalog department in downtown Waycross, Georgia, and he for Seaboard Coast Line Railroad in Waycross. Both worked hard and came home at the end of the day to each other, their impeccably clean house, and their manicured lawn that they took great weekend pride in landscaping during the warm months. 

Those Christmases, so full of vivid paperdoll and red wagon and Daisy gun and army men and fruitcake memories, come rushing to mind as I sit here in my living room thinking of my early childhood years when we traveled to visit our grandparents in our metallic blue and woodgrain-sided Buick station wagon through the back roads of rural Georgia, my brother and I lying flat on our backs on a quilt in “the way back” (third seat flattened to a bed area, with no seatbelts, of course) looking up at the stars in the clear night as pine tree tops whizzed past. 

My eyes gaze upward to the window over our front door, out to the stars past the pine tree tops, realizing that the years, too, have whizzed past faster than I could have imagined. I’m older now than my grandparents were then, and understand in these years more than ever before how fleeting time truly is. 

And I wonder whether fruitcake-filled Currier and Ives Christmas tins with lids of horses pulling sleighs over snowdrifts out by the old two-story farmhouse are still a thing anywhere. I’d like to steal some cookies and tuck myself away in all the wonder of a silvery tinsel tree, reliving just a few moments of those good old days, hearing Kitty tell stories and coffee cups clink and antique chairs creak as folks laughed, before screens came along and disrupted real human conversation. 

Those were the best days. 

Pumpkin Bread and Pinecone Feeders

Two important traditions rooted in books still prevail during Christmas holidays, continuing from the days when my children were small. They still ask for the pumpkin bread from the Frederica Fare cookbook, so I baked two fresh loaves Sunday morning and we devoured one, slathering each slice with our favorite Irish butter. Christmas isn’t Christmas without it.

We make pinecone birdfeeders each year after we read the book Night Tree by Eve Bunting, taking the treats to a tree in our yard and hanging them for the songbirds and other critters to have their Christmas feast. The kids enjoyed the sensory experience of gathering pinecones, coating them with Crisco, and rolling them in birdseed. This year, it was a special moment seeing my son and his family all engaged in this time-honored tradition that is a testament to the power of a book to create family pastimes.

The book was a Christmas gift that my daughter’s kindergarten teacher purchased with book club points for each child in the class back in 1992. Once we read the book together that year, we decided to make our own tree. We’ve been doing it ever since. In fact, the morning my son called at the end of 2012 from Tennessee to say he was planning to propose that evening, I was outside with the oldest grandchild making our Night Tree. A decade and five children later, here they are – – carrying on the tradition that started in the pages of a childhood book.

I also shared this book with one of our school district’s partner preschool centers this year in a professional development session at the beginning of December. Teachers read the book to each class, and they made their own class critter trees. The teachers sent me the photos of smiling, proud little ones who now watch from the windows to see the birds come, just as we do. 

Never underestimate the power of a book to make a difference and shape thinking. Cookbooks and children’s picture books are filled with all sorts of magic. Sharing sacred traditions with the next generation is a rich gift of grandparenthood.

The Best Present is Presence

I didn’t want them to leave, even though we go back to work tomorrow and most of our grandkids have another week of homeschool before they take their Christmas break. Sawyer is in 3rd grade, Saylor in 1st, and River in PreK. Beckham and Magnolia aren’t in their school years yet.

Aidan, the oldest and a teenager, lives in a neighboring county and attends a private school there. He has finally caught – and exceeded – my height. We’ve been back to back and heel to heel for a year now to see when the day would come, and it has happened!

Even though it’s far from our normal routine where we live with three Schnoodles, having part of our family come for a visit is a joy! They are a lively bunch, and they make us so proud!

We love taking pictures each time we all get together. Our daughter in law sets the timer and makes the run to take her place before the click, while we all watch the flashing light and say “cheese” on repeat until it stops. She’s an iPhone wizard!

This year, no one felt like getting dressed for a picture, so we didn’t. It was a rainy, cold weekend and we were busy staying warm and playing dominoes and watching movies and eating nonstop. So we opted for the reality photo, the one where you have to keep calling everyone to get outside and no one can pry themselves off the couch or chair they’re occupying. No one wore anything except pajamas with a coat or robe (and not the family matching kind with the coordinated Tartan plaid that looks planned and professional). A couple of us had shoes on, no girls had makeup on, and one or two of us might have brushed our hair or teeth. We simply ran out in the misty drizzle for a photo to mark the occasion.

L-R: Saylor, Kim holding Beckham, Briar in back, River, Aidan, Sawyer, Marshall holding Magnolia, and Selena

This may be my favorite picture of us ever taken. When our grandchildren are grown and look back on these days spent with their grandparents, this is what I want them to remember – that we were happy just the way we were, and that we chose to savor every moment relaxing together at home. And that we didn’t need a crippling blizzard to know how to stay in our pajamas and drink coffee and chocolate milk all day and stay cozy.

It’s true: the best present is presence.

Sleepless Christmas Time

All six grandchildren are here with two parents, their three labs and the two of us and our three Schnoodles. The house has never been more alive than it is right now (you can actually feel its heartbeat thumping, pulsing with the energy of children). We celebrated Christmas together yesterday. During the weekend time, we have watched our small town’s Christmas Parade, baked and decorated Christmas cookies and pumpkin bread, made peanut butter fudge, cooked a big pancake breakfast, played outside and amassed Georgia red clay dirt stains from wrestling in the grass and playing King of the Hill, made pinecone birdfeeders and watched the birds come to an early Christmas feast, taken a walk with the dogs to look for the elusive “Lellow Bear” that has lived in these woods for many years, napped, visited a family friend at the fire station, opened gifts, played board and card games and dominoes because we gave away the Scrabble board, feasted on Lasagna and garlic bread, and ran inside from the drizzle that stopped our fireside marshmallow roast plans. We’ve taken a tour of the camper and talked about all the plants on the front porch, including the ways to propagate them for our nine year old environmentalist grandson to have snips of offshoots of these plant species (he already has five varieties of succulents and cactuses growing in his room). He has shown us how to make his favorite tea. We’ve taken some moments here and there to sit on the swing of serenity and have a brief time of peace before being discovered by someone needing less peace. We’ve thrown the ball down the hall for the fetching dog hundreds of times and tested stain removers on knees of pants and elbows of jackets and shirts. We’ve K-cupped multiple times a day to keep caffeinated enough to keep pace with the little ones and read books at quiet times.

We’ve found half-eaten marshmallows in the pantry and little pieces of games and random things here and there – – including six grapes, four smushed into the floor. And we’ve showered at the oddest times, just to stagger for hot water so that all ten of us wouldn’t get the shower shivers.

And we’ve tasted sleep. 

But we have not indulged in the entire entree of sleep.

That will come in time.

Little Debbie Christmas Tree Cake Dip Office Party Day

Today is our office Christmas Party, and I signed up to bring Little Debbie Christmas Tree Cake dip. I have no idea why I did this. 

I have never made or tasted Little Debbie Christmas Tree Cake dip, but the man making it in the video on Facebook swears by it.

So when the shared document came around in email to sign up saying what we would bring, I wrote, “Either Little Debbie Christmas Tree Cake Dip or those chocolate-dipped Vienna sausages with the colorful sprinkles that are all the rage on Tik Tok.” I don’t know why I wrote that, either. Apparently a Tik Tokker figured out a way to stop being asked to bring a finger food to parties and was kind enough to share his secret with the rest of us who don’t do much kitchening.

The good news is that I decided not to make the chocolate covered Vienna sausages but instead to go with the classier dish.

I watched a video on Facebook showing how to make the cake dip. You take a box of the larger size Little Debbie Christmas Tree cakes and reserve one cake, then blend the remaining five together with a block of cream cheese, a teaspoon or two of vanilla, and 1/3 cup of milk. Then, you fold in a regular sized container of Cool Whip, add sprinkles on top, place the reserved tree cake on top, cover, and refrigerate. You serve it with vanilla wafers, pretzels, or whatever you’d like. I have both of those and gingersnaps, but we’re having to settle for all-occasion sprinkles because I forgot the Christmas kind.

We’ll see how the party goes. I’ve heard through the grapevine that there’s fixin’ to be a fight over one particular item when the gift swap game is played – – a coffee mug with Christmas music lyrics personalized with our county’s name.

If we get to see a couple of co-workers wrestling over a coffee mug and all start circling around and chanting fight! fight! fight!, then I’m for sure gonna whip up the chocolate-dipped Vienna sausages next year and maybe bust open a can of whop biscuits, too. 

The Past, Present, and Future

Seven years before she died, my mother joined one of my daughters and me on a girls’ trip to Dahlonega, Georgia. My college roommate makes it an annual tradition to take her own mother and daughters to start the season of Christmas shopping the weekend before Thanksgiving each year, so we met them there that year, staying with them in their favorite Smith House suite overlooking the Dahlonega square. It was a magical time of welcoming the Christmas spirit, eating great food, playing dominoes and cards, reading, sleeping past 6 a.m., lingering over coffee, and shopping for those on our lists.

I’m so grateful for that time we had together. Mom knew something was different, and she suspected Parkinson’s Disease long before her official diagnosis came. Her right thumb trembled endlessly, and she found she grew weaker and felt increasingly exhausted in her daily routine, even with her normal daily tasks. I was glad our room was close to the town square so that she could go back and rest when she felt too tired to walk.

We were downstairs in one of the gift shops when Mom’s eyes lit up. She’d spotted the sale sign on Willow Tree items. I was curious about what she’d wanted from the selection, so I followed her over to the table, where she stood admiring the Nativity set.

She bought that basic Nativity set as my Christmas gift that year and added to it for the next several years, giving me a new part of the collection each year. At the time, I was thankful, but not nearly as grateful for that gift then as I am today. The memory of our time together lives on, and this is one gift that I truly cherish because it marks our trip and takes me right back to the place where she found the joy of giving this to me and building it over time. When I admire these pieces, she is right here with me. In this Nativity, I see the past, present, and future.

A Slice of Night: From 1:21 to 3:38 to 4:32 a.m

Photo by Leeloo Thefirst on Pexels.com

It’s 3:38 a.m. and since 1:21, 

a crooner has been singing

on repeat in my ear right through the pillow 

It’s the Holiday Season

So hoop-de-do

And hickory dock

and just exactly at 12 o’clock

He’ll be coming down the chimney

coming down the chimney

Coming down the chimney down

And I need this to stop!!! 

Because I need to worry

About the ceiling

And the little piece of plaster that fell 

That Briar tried to replace with

Glue and tape and a broomstick 

On top of a tall ladder but it 

Plunged to the floor and broke

Now we need a spackling job

But there might be moisture 

And we might need a repair

Or black mold might start growing

And take over the whole house

And we would get sick and die

And I need to worry about what might have happened

if he’d fallen off that ladder at his age

And all the whatifs that go with a thing like that 

Like if we want to change where we will be buried because I do NOT want to be buried on the current plan anymore and I asked for my own cemetery way back a year ago in July and it still hasn’t happened and so maybe I’ll get a Christmas cemetery,

I sure hope so,

down by the road under the only hardwoods on this farm, with little iron fence that stays empty until we are all too old to move or talk or breathe anymore, but a cemetery that’s ready at any moment just for the peace of mind

I might be the only woman on the face of this planet who would cry tears of unwept joy opening the gift of a personal cemetery, but I’m dead serious 

I heard a thud and am relieved

It’s a pillow I kicked off the bed and not a dog 

Especially the one who already

Broke a leg before we rescued him

Now he just snuggled closer to me

Those little feet 

Always find the boobs always 

Always always and ouch 

Ouch

He burrows to my feet finally

Thank Goodness

I have the presents but I still need to

Wrap some and remember to get part 2 of the work gift exchange 

And make Little Debbie Christmas tree cake dip – and replace the regular sprinkles with Christmas sprinkles 

And after 2 pairs of Levi’s and a pair of Timberland Boots that I have gotten him again just like for the past at least 8 Christmases 

He says on December 11 before bed

He wants a sound machine because these new fans are too quiet 

They don’t make them like they used to

And I need to gather pine cones for the night tree.

Crisco and birdseeds I already have, and that twine is somewhere maybe even in the toolbox

and I need another newspaper since I used extra newsprint on gift wrapping but now we will for sure need it for the mess after reading the book and honoring the critter tree tradition

And these grandkids will do this. It’s what their father and aunts and I have done since he was little in preK and got the book as a gift from his teacher and it is what I was doing by the driveway when he called to tell me he was planning on popping the question to their mother

this tree we have always done together

But no gingerbread houses, no!! Lord, no! There aren’t enough sprinkles and nerves in this world for that, that’s why I bought them the Lego set last year. They can put that together as their gingerbread house.

We will make cookies. Break and bake sugar cookies with a can of store-bought icing with a tablespoon of Crisco and some cornstarch mixed in with the beaters so the icing will harden and maybe we use the regular sprinkles for that since my granddaughter likes pink, the one who can say she likes pink

I think we can do that and sweep up all the sprinkles 

And I have to be up in an hour getting ready now that it is 4:00 because the conference is an hour away and registration starts at 7:00 so I need to leave here by 6;00 meaning feet on the floor at 5:00 

and help!!! What to wear???

I haven’t even worried about that yet so maybe the gray pants and a black shirt and sweater but my feet will freeze if I can’t wear my regular black boots and they don’t go with those pants and I just don’t want to wear a dress since I have to wear my magnetic work name tag and it looks like it’s lost on a dress so maybe 

….could I get away with jeans? Wouldn’t that just be great to show up in the ripped knee pair? Surely they would take that one picture if I did, the one defining conference picture to go on social media to show all of us working, thinking critically, collaborating, communicating, creating

All the professionals in their pressed slacks and boutique blouses and nametags and me in my ripped jeans and boots and camo shirt and it’s too bad it’s so cold or I could pull out my camo Birkenstocks for that picture and if I were really bold just wear them in the winter with socks to hear Joan Sedita talk about The Writing Rope 

the one supposed to be a random candid where I’m the only one looking straight at the camera like I’m all defiant in my fashion all because I couldn’t sleep and it’s the holiday season 

And hoop-de-do

And hickory dock

And just exactly at 12 o’clock

He’ll be coming down the chimney

Coming down the chimney

Coming down the chimney down

Happy holidays

Happy holidays

While the merry bells keep ringing

Happy holidays

to you

It’s the holiday season

And Santa Claus is coming round

The winter snow is white on the ground

And when old Santa gets into town

He’ll be coming down the chimney down

He’ll be coming down the chimney down

It’s the holiday season

And Santa Claus has got a toy

For every good girl and good little boy

He’s got a great big bundle o’ joy

He’ll be coming down the chimney down

He’ll be coming down the chimney down

He’s got a big fat pack upon his back

And lots of goodies for you and for me

So leave a peppermint stick for old St. Nick

Hanging on the Christmas tree

It’s the holiday season

So hoop-de-do and hickory dock

And don’t forget to hang up your sock

‘Cause just exactly at 12 o’clock

He’ll be coming down the chimney

Coming down the chimney

Coming down the chimney down

Happy holidays

Happy holidays

While the merry bells keep ringing

Happy holidays to you

  • …..and now it’s 4:32