An Extended Family Christmas
My mother and father both came from large families, but I was an only child. I used to envy the big families I read about. Then I had the fortune to marry up with three other people who were also effectively only children and wanted community. Which is how I ended up cooking for 23 people this Christmas. At least we didn’t try to sit them all down at one table as we do at Thanksgiving.
And at least it was intentional community, not the kind of relatives you endure from duty rather than love. I actually *like* all the people who were here. The Greyhaven Family Tree often leaves people blinking in confusion. When drawing a sociogram, we’ve had to invent some symbols to represent the connections. Blood relations are the simple part– my autistic younger son, and my older son Ian and his wife and their three children. Beyond that, it gets more complicated. There’s my husband Don, and his adopted son Jon and his wife and their lover and the two children. And my daughter-in-law’s parents. There’s my sister-in-law, and then the lady who replaced her as Paul’s Significant Other when she left, and their daughter.There’s Marion Zimmer Bradley’s son David, who qualifies as a nephew by marriage, sort of. There’s the lady who used to live with him, who now lives with Don Simpson and Kitty Crow, who was a part of our household in the SCA, and Julie, an old friend from the Faire who used to live with us and now lives downstairs from David. Kitty’s daughter (Sabre), who is my grandson’s godmother, came by later, and so did the other two couples who have been living in our basement off and on. The house really seems to like being filled with happy people.
I had this lovely cooking schedule posted, printed in red and green. Only the 21 lb. turkey somehow cooked faster than expected, and we had to scurry (thank you Tracy and Kitty) to step up the schedule for the mashed potatoes, mixed vegetables, Brussels sprouts, and salad. It turned out pretty well– I always depend on inspiration for the stuffing, so I can’t post the recipe. And Chris brought bread and ice cream and my in-laws brought pie. But between all the cleaning and washing up beforehand, and during, and then after, by the time dinner was on, being the gracious hostess was a fantasy. All I wanted to do was sit down. There have been years when I was actually able to do a little Yuletide meditation during the holidays. But not this one.
I have dreams of running away from it all, but I suppose it’s like childbirth. Let a year go by and you forget the pain.
And gosh, there’s a whole week to recover between X-mas and the New Year’s Eve ball. But at least for that one we will only be cleaning (although the cleaning is pretty Herculian, involving moving all the furniture from the living room and waxing the floor), with minimal cooking. If you like to dance, and are in my area, and didn’t already see the invitation on one of the lists, consider yourselves invited too.
I shouldn’t complain. Be careful what you ask for– you may get it. And I always wanted a big family.