Ready and already I'm behind!

Quote of the Day:  O, Christmas Tree, O, Christmas Tree, how lovely are your branches. a favorite holiday song

How's that for a winter wonderland!

I'm already three days behind in the Advent Photo A Day Project. Uff-da! I'll catch up a bit here today.

Dec. 7th's word was Ready. We were busy getting ready for Zach's Birthday (the 7th) and Christmas this weekend. Our tradition has been to celebrate Zach's birthday, then put up the Christmas tree. I had an old plastic tree that lit up only halfway, which was a disappointment to the Biker Chef, so he said, "Let's go to a tree farm and cut our own tree." Well, Saturday's temps were well below zero with horrible wind. We got Zach a birthday present, went grocery shopping and stayed in. On Sunday, however, the temps creeped to just above zero, so we popped in the Nat King Cole cassette tape (Biker Chef still has his mom's!), and headed to Hebron Gardens Tree Farm.

Hey, kids, this is a cassette tape. It plays music.

The snow is not a photo prop. We've had plenty here in Minnesota!

Sizing up the tree and whacking off the snow.

Loading it up in the truck.

Then, the scenic drive home.

The joys and aggravations of putting up a real tree give us fond Christmas memories. After cutting the stem a couple times, repositioning it, and tightening the screws on the tree stand, it seems to be standing fairly straight in its new home in my living room. So far, our cat Leo hasn't tried to climb up and knock it over. It's only a matter of time, I'm sure.

The Advent word for Sunday was Wisdom. On our way to the tree farm, I lifted up the camera to take a shot and discovered that the battery was completely dead. In a moment of wisdom last Friday, I put the spare battery in my purse. (Patting myself on the back.) I'll have more on Wisdom in a future post. It has to do with our trip to St. Paul on our way to the Wizard of Oz.  Here's a sneak peak.

Can anyone guess where I am?

O, Christmas tree, O, Christmas Tree, your branches are indeed lovely, although a bit pokey. When it touches my skin, big welts break out on my hands and arms. Yikes! I'll be watering the tree with rubber gloves on and the boys will do all the decorating. Oh, the pricks and prickles of the holidays as the blend in with the joys and traditions. Here's to making new traditions and lasting memories! Cheers!

Happy 16th Birthday, Zach!

Go. Create. Inspire!

Journaling Prompt:  Do you put up a tree at Christmas? What winter holiday traditions do you have?

Fall Leaf Creatures

The inevitable email I get from the kindergarten teacher asking parents to send in empty toilet paper rolls turns my stomach every time. Quite frankly, my youngest ones haven't exactly gotten wiping down to a hygienic science yet and I'm pretty sure it's the same story with all their happy-go-lucky cohorts. So while I'm all for recycling-bin crafts, I'll pass on giving anything from my kids' bathroom a second life. Yuck.

Instead, we use empty paper towel rolls, trimmed to size, for our fall leaf creatures. It's a huge event for Halle. She spends weeks collecting nature's whatnots- twigs, tiny hemlock cones, and "helicopters."

"Look, Mom! Look at what I found for our leaf creatures this year!"

The outside world steadily trickles through our front door, sometimes left to break down into a sort of organic litter on my desk.

We wait for a dry windy day to blow down lots of leaves that aren't quite crispy and still have lots of color left.

"Ooooooo...here's a pretty red one! Look, there's a whole bunch of them over here!"

We gather more than enough and head back inside. Fall scatters across our kitchen table.

We sort. We try this leaf and then that one. We glue.

This year Halle lined up all the creatures. She studied them, then looked around for how she could round out the scene. She added leaves, stood back, then started stacking rocks in the foreground.

I sat there silently, impressed with how she thought about her composition.

Her eyes narrowed; it was clear she wasn't quite satisfied.

"I know!"

She reached for the unused empty paper towel rolls and placed them carefully in the background, adding depth.

If Halle's intuitive sense of composition someday lands her a chapter in "America's 50 Greatest Artists,"  I can expect at least a paragraph on the leaf creatures she made every year with her mom.

Right?

Hodgepodge of Highlights

On Monday we took our whole family to our version of Disneyland.

Really. Check out Halle's face.

The fear...the anticipation...the thrill of what might come next...

Unfortunately, the mud on my mirrors the next day reminded me why people who live on dirt roads don't ever pay for car washes.

Wednesday's weather called for soup, so Lyla and I bundled up and went out to the garden to pick carrots, turnips, and parsley.

Our warm fireplace laughed a little as we shivered our way back inside.

Quite a bit of our summer garden is still hiding out in our freezer, so I added some shredded zucchini to the pot simmering on the stove later that day. Tortellini soup. Yum.

Oh. And this is Bentley. He is not our dog.

I was headed home from dropping off Beau at middle school on Friday morning when I came up behind two clearly un-street-smart dogs. For half a mile they trotted aimlessly in front of me, cars whirring passed them in the other direction.

Lyla was at home with a high fever and the other kids were all getting ready for school. Wes was about to leave for work. Should I?

The first dog (who I later came to know as Scout) said "rub my belly and I'll follow you anywhere" as soon as I stepped out of the car. Scout jumped up in my Suburban and went right to sleep in the back seat. I called the number on his tag and left a message for his owner. Then I turned to the other dog, Bentley- the one in the photo. He had no tag but clearly belonged with the dog already fast asleep in my warm, dry car. 

Bentley wasn't so sure about me- though he really wanted to be. He would come close to me, yearning to curl up next to his companion, then back away with a bark of mistrust.

I knew enough to beware of a dog who was scared. 

So now what? This second dog had no tag. If I left him here, only Scout would make it home. No one would ever know where Bentley belonged. I knew I needed to keep the two dogs together.

I called the kids at home and told them they would be late for school, then dug around my car for some food. Two baggies of Cheerios later, I was left with well-slobbered hands and a 100 pound dog that still wouldn't budge.

Hmmmmmmm...what to do...

Then slowly he put two front paws up into the driver's side. Another minute passed. And finally, up he went.

Fantastic. An hour after pulling over, the second dog was finally in my car. 

But Bentley refused to move out of the driver's seat. I reached into my mental grab bag of doggie tricks, but after an hour it was pretty much empty.

Some time passed and I eventually imagined an agreement between the two of us: he wasn't going to bite me (fingers crossed). With a deep breath, I slid into the narrow gap between my steering wheel and Bentley's hefty self, thinking SURELY he will move once I'm in the seat with him.

But he didn't. So with 100 pounds of dog taking up most of my seat, I leaned my head forward into the dash board and put the car in gear. I drove the curvy mile to my house pressed up against the wheel, barely able to steer. 

Oh, and it gets better. While I leaned forward over the steering wheel, my sizable new companion sat down...on my back. I tried to laugh, but there was just no room.

This all ends well. The owner, having been out looking for the dogs until 11 PM the night before, pulled up to my house an hour later. She was thankful to have her dogs back, safe and sound, and I was thankful for the entertaining morning- a little break from the everyday routine.

That night, I lay on the couch with a feverish Lyla draped over me. She had come home from her swim lesson on Thursday with a 103-degree fever. Now and again she would wake up and melt my heart with an, "I love you, Mom." Sweet Lyla.

The time to make dinner came and went as I struggled to keep my own eyes open under her warm snuggly heap of helplessness.

"I'll make dinner," Wes announced. I smiled. My eyes closed. Wes making dinner almost always involves a phone call and a quick trip downtown.

Chinese take-out.

Before he left, I heard him make his way over to our TV and the tangled mess of cords and electronics hiding behind it (a project for a coming day). When the music started, my eyes opened to see him staring back at me. His eyes were twinkling and accompanied by a smile that said, "I know you." 

While You Were Sleeping.

It just might be the 432nd time I've seen it and he knows I still love it. I also love White Christmas, It's a Wonderful Life, and Return to Me, and insist on my family watching all of them year-after-year over the holidays.

My kids have their own list of must-watch holiday movies- Home Alone, Elf,  and The Polar Express.

Hmmmm...not even Thanksgiving and already I'm going off on holiday movies.

ANYWAY, it's now Sunday night and Lyla is feeling well enough to jump on her bed, disregard my insistence that she put her head on her pillow and, in general, treat bedtime more like a trip to Disneyland...er...the car wash.

On to a brand new week...

150 Mile Summer- Part 3

I remember being a young mother sitting in the living room of our student apartment over ten years ago. As my two small children tinkered there in front of me with Legos and plastic kitchen food, I wondered if I would ever have anything wise to say to them. Aren't children supposed to grow up and think back on some simple, but powerful, bit of wisdom they learned from their mother--something Mom always used to say? 

Would I ever say anything wiser than "never put play dough up your nose?"

It was a few weeks ago when I turned around to see Sophia struggling up the mountainside behind me. Her head was bent down in hopelessness and she was laboring over every step. It was a steep climb and we had been at it for a good while. The hot sun reflecting off the rocks around us settled oppressively on Sophia, adding extra weight to what was already the difficult task of moving forward.

Sophia is not usually one to complain while hiking. In fact, she usually leads the pack. But the trail to Snow Lake had her just about beat. Nothing in her posture reflected momentum or purpose. It was draining just to watch her.

"Go forward with purpose," I heard myself say to my daughter.

Go forward with purpose? Where did those words come from? They sounded sort of...wise, which immediately made me doubt they came from my mouth.

With Sophia plodding up only a few feet at a time between water breaks, I had plenty of time to consider the idea that just maybe our 150 mile summer would turn into the kind of memory I had hoped. Something our children could look back on and find real growth- wisdom even. And all at once in my mind came this collage of sage advice that somehow mysteriously escaped my mouth at one point or another this summer--

We can do hard things.

Hard things are always easier with a smile.

Go forward with purpose.

Stick to it. Follow through.

Weird. I'm pretty sure it was only yesterday I told someone not to stick play dough up her nose--I'm not talking about Lyla, either.

And if my children don't immediately appreciate all that wisdom and the persuasive family experiences that went along with it, they can someday read them here. When they do, I hope it will all come back to them and be magnified.

I can't end this three-part series about our 150 161 mile summer without sharing two noteworthy traditions attached to our family hikes. The first is turning on The Vinyl Cafe for some great stories on the ride home. If Stuart McLean hasn't told his way to the end of Dave and Morley's latest shenanigan by the time we pull in the driveway, we all sit there and stare at the garage door until he has. Our family loves good storytelling.

The second tradition sometimes serves as a slight distraction from the first, as each of us tries to stifle the noise of our growling stomachs. No matter how many snacks we snarf down along the trail, we inevitably get back in the car absolutely famished. 

The kids got so hungry on the way down from Cooper Lake that by the time they reached the car, they had a pretty catchy chorus going.

Gotta love the "you're out of tune" Beau manages to squeeze in at the very end.

I'm grateful for the opportunity to build memories and grow "wiser" with my children. Sometimes I wonder who's raising whom.

Click here and here for more about our 150 mile summer.

Memorial Day at the American Legion

Memorial Day brought a welcome break from the norm of chasing kids out the door on time with lunches, permission slips, and...on a good day...matching socks. 

I stayed in bed long after waking up, wasting a little time on Facebook, even more on Pinterest, and then delving into the book stash beside my bed. After more time than I care to admit, I headed downstairs, crunched my way across the kitchen floor, found an entire box of cereal dumped out on the table, and put the questionably tepid milk back in the refrigerator. Such is the trade-off for temporarily ignoring reality.

At noon we headed off to what has become a more meaningful Memorial Day tradition for our family- the flag ceremony and luncheon at our local American Legion.

The truth is that we were a little late this year, so we missed the flag ceremony entirely. But I'm certain it was just as moving as the year before. I've come to expect the tiny lump that never fails to form in my throat as the names of the fallen are called out to a modest crowd.

After the ceremony, everyone formed a line for the food. Veterans and volunteers came through, shaking willing hands and telling us "thank you so much for coming today." 

I eavesdropped on the conversations around me. There's just something about hearing old men in uniform swapping stories.

It was while waiting in line that Wes leaned over and whispered in my ear, "I have an old war movie for you and me tonight." He knows this scores more imaginary points with me than washing dishes and putting the kids to bed combined. Well, maybe that's stretching it. But to me a good old war movie- and I mean old as in Thirty Seconds Over Toyko (1944), PT-109 (1963), and Midway (1976)- tops any chick-flick. Especially on Memorial Day.

The food is just what you would expect. Hot dogs, baked beans, and a variety of salads. My own green salad teetered on the edge of the crowded buffet.

We finished our food and made our way toward the door. 

I was so pleased to see my older children approach some of the veterans with a handshake and thank them for their service, because for better or for worse, we just don't have a whole lot of personal connections with the sacrifices made by so many military families.

Somehow Halle's emotion chip got shoved in sideways that morning. 

Before cramming back into the car, we stopped for one more...ahem...respectful photo in front of the memorial.

Mother's Day Morning

The first course of my Mother's Day breakfast in bed was leftover Asian Noodle Salad brought to me by my well-meaning and oh-so-proud five-year-old Halle.

It was delicious...three days ago...for dinner.  Did I mention the dressing was made with lots of fresh garlic? 

When Lyla woke up I scooped her up in her favorite blanket and brought her to our bed.  She grinned, held her arms out wide and declared, "Happy Halloween!"  

She curled up beside me for the next twenty minutes, periodically asking when it was time for candy.

After the others woke up, I was showered with homemade gifts, bagels and cream cheese, and a mostly raw orange roll.  Yummmmmmm.

There were two hours left before we needed to head out the door to church so I dove back under the covers and into my three new books.  Wes had let me pick them out the day before as my Mother's Day gift.  Truth be told, he asked me to pick out one book.  But as I sat there in that leather chair at the front of Deseret Book, my brow wrinkled, trying to choose which two books to leave behind, Wes snatched up all three and met me at the counter. I am spoiled.

Nestled in my bed, deeply engaged in the first of the three books, I heard water running in the kitchen, plates clanging as they were being stacked on top of each other, and the sound of the dishwasher door closing.  Wes cleaned the kitchen.

Happy Mother's Day to me!

Happy Easter

We are all about little plastic eggs and baskets.  We are all about egg hunts and hollow chocolate bunnies.  Then, of course, there are the tiny faces hovering over cups of colorful vinegar-water, trying to get just the right shade of pink.

And at this special time of year, we are also all about remembering our Savior.



Happy Easter.

Teeth For Books

The tooth fairy laughs she stealthily exchanges a small handful of coins for the lone tooth under his pillow.  The thought just occurs to her that this boy worked so hard at twisting out his not-quite- ready tooth this evening because it is book fair week at school.  And while his mother may consider the KCLS library their second home, she does not GIVE her children money for the book fair.  She does, however, provide them with ample opportunity to EARN book money- particularly during book fair week- but apparently it is easier to rip out a tooth.

Potato Dumplings

Quote of the Day:  Dumplings are a memory food. Jane Aalgaard, my mom

We spent the whole Thanksgiving weekend at my parents' farm, preparing food, eating food, cleaning up the food, doing projects, and playing a few games. I made it a point to photograph the process and take some notes. My food focus today is Potato Dumplings, a favorite of folks of the Norwegian descent.

Picture me following my mom around with my camera and notebook, trying desperately to learn how to make the dumplings and record the stories that accompany them. The truth is, I don't know how to make them. Whenever I called Mom up to ask what to do, she would reply, "Oh, just come out here and have them. I was in the mood to make them, anyway." So, I did. The most I've ever done is grind the potatoes.

First, you peel the potatoes. For our Sunday dinner, "Dad stood in the utility room for three quarters of an hour, peeling," said Mom, which was approximately 10 pounds (probably more).

Then, you run them through the grinder.

Mom and Dad grinding the potatoes

 

Close up of the grinder. I have one just like it that I've never used.

I don't even know where it is!

 

Joy, dancing & grinding

 

Mom, preparing the dumpling mixture.

 

I tried to pay attention to Mom as she was mixing the dumplings. Here's her "recipe."

 

Start a big pot of water boiling with a hambone

Peel about 10 pounds of red potatoes

Grind the potatoes

Put in about 2 Tablespoons of salt (You need lots of salt.)

Mom puts in one cup of whole wheat flour and keeps adding white flour "until it's the right consistency."

 

"How much is that, Mom?" I asked.

"Enough flour to hold them together," answered Mom.

 

Also, if you have some leftover, cooled, mashed or boiled potatoes, it is good to add them to the freshly ground ones. They'll stick together better and be lighter. (As if a dumpling could ever be light.)

 

Be sure the broth is boiling hard the whole time that you're adding the dumplings. If the water stops boiling, the dumplings will fall apart and mush to the bottom.

 

Mom's hands forming the dumplings.

 

 

It looks pretty good to me.

 

I think Mom boiled them for about 45 minutes.

 

Serve them with ham, the juice from the boiled hambone, loads of butter, and maybe some vegetables. Some people put a piece of ham or fat in the center of the dumpling before boiling it, but Mom thinks that it makes them fall apart easier.

 

She said that the biggest crew she ever served potato dumplings was one New Year's Eve, back in the '70's when she invited Dad's siblings and cousins in the area and their families. Plus, all of her six kids were still at home. She couldn't remember the exact number. She served 15 of us on Sunday, more than were there on Thanksgiving. I said, "You probably couldn't even mention that you were making dumplings when you were at church today because everyone would want to come over." In fact, a couple people must have smelled the evidence because they were complaining that they hadn't had potato dumplings in a long time. We did invite Mable, our closest neighbor, but she's like family.

 

When they do a dumpling dinner for a church fundraiser, they peel about 300 pounds of potatoes. Mom's not sure how many they serve. It varies, I suppose, and they "give some away, throw some in the woods and scrape the rest off the bottom of the kettles." Sometimes, they stick so badly, they have to soak the kettle for a week. One year, someone had the bright idea that if they put a plate inside on the bottom of the kettle the dumplings wouldn't stick. "Sure, they didn't stick," said my Mom, "But, you couldn't get the plate out of there."  The pastor spent the whole afternoon trying to pry the thing off the bottom of the kettle.

 

Dumplings are the poor immigrant's food, like lefse and lutefisk. I'll have to take photos and notes at Christmas for the lutefisk post. The wonderful thing about food is that it is a memory trigger. It links us back to the old country, wherever that may be. It brings up cozy times of growing up and eating together. Many times, it is a special occasion that you're sharing with folks you love.

 

 

 

May your tastebuds bring joyful memories, while creating new ones.

Go. Create. Inspire!

 

Journaling Prompt:  Write about a food tradition.

 

 

 

Review of A Christmas Carol at the Guthrie

Quote of the Day: We are travelers together on the road to the grave. We are not on separate journeys. Fred to his uncle Ebenezer Scrooge, trying to convince him to stop being so selfish and miserly and look at other people as equals.

J.C. Cutler (Ebenezer Scrooge) in the Guthrie Theater's production of the Charles Dickens classic A Christmas Carol, adapted by Crispin Whittell and directed by Joe Chvala with set design by Walt Spangler, costume design by Mathew J. LeFebvre and lighting design by Christopher Akerlind. November 13 - December 29, 2012, on the Wurtele Thrust Stage at the Guthrie Theater, Minneapolis. Photos by Michael Brosilow

The holidays are a time for traditions. We eat special food, watch favorite movies, decorate, and exchange gifts. We also attend events, church services, performances and make an effort to spend time with people we love. A Christmas Carol has been a tradition at The Guthrie Theater for 38 years. I wonder if anyone out there has attended a performance every year? Are there people who work for the Guthrie who have been part of every production? I know that some of the actors have been in several productions. This year, J.C. Cutler is again playing Ebenezer Scrooge. I think he's fantastic. He shows us the mean, miserly Scrooge at the beginning who wants to isolate himself and pushes everyone away. He narrates his life for the ghosts, and audience, as they take him through his past, present and future until we see the transformed Scrooge filled with gratitude for life, generosity of spirit, and a need to share his abundance and feel alive.

At the stroke of one, you will be visited by three ghosts.

 

It doesn't take long for something to become a tradition. You can start one this year, try it out, if it feels right, do it again next year, and boom, you have a new tradition. This is our second year attending A Christmas Carol at the Guthrie, and I love our new tradation. Last year, I attended it with my four boys. This year, I brought three of the boys (oldest is away at college), my sister Joy, my cousin Angie, and the Biker Chef. We all had a blast. While we were eating at the Level 5 cafe at the Guthrie, Joy asked, "What's your favorite thing about the holidays?" We got some great answers, the food, the decorations, being with family, the gifts, watching other people open gifts that you gave them. And, now, for me, one of my favorites is attending traditional holiday shows with family and friends. One of my boys just said, "I want to see that play again." Yay. We have a new tradition.

Joy said she enjoyed this newer version of A Christmas Carol by playwright Crispin Whittell. It brings out elements of the story that she hadn't seen before and offers some surprises. Last year, was the first time I'd seen the production at the Guthrie and I was mesmerized by all the theatrics. The production team pulls out all the stops for this show using trap doors, zip lines, special effects and dramatic music. Of course, the costumes and set are stunning.

This year, I focused more on the story. Scrooge is a wounded little boy. He felt abandoned and abused as a child and had no fond memories of Christmas, or any other day. The holidays became a time where he was reminded just how alone he is in this world. He represents all the people who dread the holidays, people who are grieving or experiencing any kind of loss. It becomes a day that they just have to get through. It is not a day of love and cheer and happy family togetherness. Like Scrooge, though, we can turn that thinking around. By examining our past, present and future, we can focus on what is good and what can be better if we chose to make it so. Scrooge gets the chance to walk that journey with three spiritual guides who don't hold back on the realism, showing him this is where you've come from, where you are now, and where you're heading unless you change your selfish ways. You can live in the misery of your past, or you can turn it around, make new traditions and embrace life, yours and the others who are on the the journey to the grave with you.

Scrooge, in his new-found generosity, provides the Christmas feast.

 

We Wish You a Merry Christmas!

 

 

The girls and I agreed that the best costume was on Mrs. Fezziwig, played with delightful energy by Suzanne Warmanen. The Fezziwig scenes are the most colorful and cheerful, but the boys noted that as the years passed, the celebration became more subdued as Scrooge became more obsessed with his business.

A Christmas Carol is being played at the Wurtele Thrust Stage at the Guthrie Theater through December 29, 2012.

Go. Create. Inspire!
And, start a new tradition.

Journaling Prompt:  Describe a family tradition that you've carried over from childhood, or started yourself.

Happy Holidays

Quote of the Day:  I wonder as I wander out under the sky, how Jesus the savior did come for to die. For poor orn'ry people like you and like I. I wonder as I wander...
(I plan to sing this song on Christmas Eve during the prelude at my church's service. The tune and the words set me to pondering.)

Photo by Laura Radniecki Images

Happy Holidays from me and the boys!

The song, I Wonder as I Wander, has an interesting story. You can read about it in a beautiful picture book by Gwenyth Swain and illustrated by Ronald Himler. John Jacob Niles, who is credited for this song, was a wanderer himself, traveling about collecting folksongs. This one was sung to him by a young girl in Murphy, North Carolina. In the story that Swain describes, the girl and her father are traveling from place to place, telling their story, singing their songs, gathering just enough from the locals to be able to move on. I think they're trying to keep ahead of their pain because the mama in the story has passed, and they're grieving.

We all wander, don't we? And, I wonder...how can we make this a more beautiful stop on the Earth for each other? Here we are celebrating Christmas and other holidays, buying, baking, wrapping, sending. But, are we pausing? Are we living in the moment and cherishing our relationships? It's not all cheer and eggnog just because it's the holidays. Many people feel melancholy from recent changes in their lives. Someone might be missing who usually joins them around the table. And, while we cling to traditions, they can be cause for not being able to move on and make new memories.

We put up an artificial tree this year, for the first time. Bobby commented on it. I said I didn't think I'd ever go fake, but now that I have, I don't plan to go back. I said, "I am kind of a traditionalist." He said, "I wouldn't say that." That gave me pause. Maybe I am someone who can embrace change and do something a new way. (Embrace was my word for the year.)

"Christmas is a state of mind." I believe that quote comes from Kris Kringle in Miracle on 34th Street, one of the many holiday movies I've watched while baking and wrapping and preparing my home for the holidays. 

When the tree goes dark, the wrapping tossed, and the meal cleaned up, what lingers are the words shared, the love felt, and the senses filled with the sights, sounds, smells, and memories of time together with friends and family.

I'll see you back here in the New Year!

Go. Create. Inspire!

Journaling Prompt:  What do you wonder as you wander?

A Christmas Carol at The Guthrie Theater Review

Quote of the Day:  I promise to keep Christmas in my heart, year round. I promise to remember the lessons the Spirits have taught me. spoken by Ebenezer Scrooge from Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol, heard last night on the Wurtele Thrust Stage at The Guthrie Theater.

Two thumbs up for the Guthrie and we hadn't even seen the show, yet!

It was a mighty fine hamburger at the "fancy" restuarant -

The Level Five Cafe'

I had a date with four handsome young men for this year's production of A Christmas Carol.

 A production of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol is a tradition at The Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis. This was the first year that I've gone to the show. I brought my four sons with me, and I'm so glad that I did. I can understand why families make this part of their holiday tradition as well. The night was truly magical.

We entered the Wurtele Thrust Stage and our eyes were immediately drawn to the set. It was like looking at a painting of Dickensian London with the street lamps, the cobbled street, the buildings with their windows lit up, and what looked like snow on the edges of buildings and the stage. Charlie leaned over and asked, "I wonder how they made that snow," and "What do you think the buildings are made out of?" The boys tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Look up. I see props up there in the cat walk."

"I wonder when they'll come down and what else is up there," I said.

Then, the music started and the house lights went down. Tiny Tim was on the stage, leaning on his crutch.  The snow falling on him glowed from the spotlight, and he sang, "Lul-lay thou little tiny child. By, by lul-ly lul-lay." Oh, my heart was already pulled into the show for "This poor youngling for whom we sing. By by Lul-ly, lul-lay." The townspeople entered from the aisles and behind the set. The stage filled with light and sound and I was transported to another time and place.

Like a colorfully wrapped Christmas present, many surprises await you during this performance. The Wurtele Stage has many hiding places, above and below, behind and within. We oohed and ahhed at the dramatic entrances of the ghosts. They are a bit scary, though, and I would not recommend this show for preschoolers. My 11-year-old sons said they think you should be in at least first grade.

My oldest son, Bobby, pointed out the political statements that were made. I already knew that the themes of A Christmas Carol are just as true today as they were in Dickens' times. Power and greed rule the day. The rich hoard their wealth and blame the poor for their own predicament. Old Scrooge isn't the only one to say, "If they can't work, they don't need to eat." Bobby noted the large prop and scene of the London Stock Exchange - a giant abacus - and how Scrooges' business acquaintance (remember, he had no friends) said they were going to ban the word "rich" at his office and replace it, instead, with "job creators."

Notice, too, that we're in the scenes of the Ghost of Christmas Past the longest. We see Scrooge as a lonely and abused boy. We meet his funny Uncle Fezziwig (this scene is so colorful, like one of Dr. Seuss' stories with bright colors and crazy hair which reminded me of the Who's down in Whoville), and we meet his fiance'. He never marries her, though, as she sees that his true love is money.

I felt drawn to the character of Bob Cratchet even more than usual during this performance. I've always had a soft spot for him, as most people do. He works hard, endures a cold office - both physically and emotionally, and he loves his family, and more than anything he wants to protect his young son, Tiny Tim, from his aweful fate. Kris L. Nelson plays the part with such tenderness that I found myself getting teary during the scene of Tiny Tim's funeral, and again, at the end when they all wish us a Merry Christmas.

One more surprise, before I go, Angela Timberman, who played Scrooge's housekeeper Merriweather, was fantastic. Such great comic relief in this play. Amidst themes of greed, despair, death, and loneliness, we have Merriweather's quips and actions, dreary, yet comical, words to songs like "We wish you a horrible Christmas" or something like that.

Alright, enough raving for now. But, check back this week. I hope to post a few photos from The Guthrie's collection of the show, and tell you more about my Christmas gift with my boys. I do hope that a visit to the Guthrie and Dickens' London and all his colorful characters becomes our holiday tradition, too.

Go. Create. Inspire!

Journaling Prompt:  Describe a time when you were surprised by a performance, or art experience.

Christmas Play

Quote of the Day:  opening lyrics to Dynamite Taio Cruz
I throw my hands up in the air sometimes

Saying AYO
Gotta let go
I wanna celebrate and live my life
Saying AYO
Baby, let's go

My boys like that song.  It's peppy and happy and all about living in the moment.  Throw your hands in the air, let go, and live!  

So, we found time to play this holiday season.  My boys like to pick out things for each other that they like, and that they would like to play/share with them.

(I especially liked the gift in the middle *grin*)

Traditions, what can I say?  There's some to keep and some to tweak.  Every year is different.  Maybe you've added a family member, maybe you've lost one.  Maybe there's a difficult separation or illness.  Maybe you've moved and you can no longer get back home for the holidays.  Whatever the reason, you may find yourself in need of a new picture.

This holiday season, I determined to let go of the Norman Rockwell - everyone sitting around the tree, cozy and happy on "the day" - picture, and thought of how I could paint my own picture.  We started doing the "pickle game" a few years ago.  I hide an ornament in the tree that looks like a pickle, so it's hard to spot. The boy who finds it gets to open a present the day before Christmas Eve (our celebration day).  I called it our "Pre-Christmas Day."  It was great.  Eric was the first and opened a movie.  After I got the bread started and the soup on, we watched it together.  Then, Bobby opened a book (Breakthrough by Stephen Tremp) that I discovered from reading blogs.  I hope he likes it.  Next, Zach opened the game Guesstures, and Charlie opened the movie Despicable Me - a funny movie - that we watched until late.  I had to stay up anyway and bake the bread.  I started the dough a bit late in the day.  It was my first time baking bread from scratch.  Mom's recipe.  It turned out okay.  Not as good as Mom's - naturally.

We also played Guesstures which was so great.  We were running and laughing and grabbing for easy clues and shouting answers.  I LOVE Guesstures and I LOVE playing with my boys.  Then, Bobby came alive like he did when he was young.  He'd play a game with me, then see how it could be improved, or add something to it.  So, he invented a bonus round based on time, the faster you get the others to guess the better, and subtracting points for answering correctly, so that you gain something by guessing.  It was so fun.  I jumped and clapped and acted, and at one time, Zach said, "You're fun!" - my best gift of the season.

I had this thought lately, that we're wrong to cling to the sameness of life. That change is always happening.  Kids grow up.  We meet people.  We end bad relationships.  We move, and we move on.  It is the idea that things will always be the same that makes us feel hopeless.

Journaling Prompt:  What holiday traditions have you kept from childhood, and which ones have you tweaked or made on your own?