WARM THOUGHTS

From letters to two friends this morning, with thoughts of all my faraway friends who drop in here:

 

Hey, this what's-left-of-a-morning.   I'm a lazy girl today---Sweetpea's little program last night was cute as the pie they were singing about, and the whole fifteen-minute show was encompassed in a thirty-minute drive each way, with the snow blowing sideways across the road, and all the lights of cars and buildings and businesses and neon all-a-twinkle in the Rain-X coating on the windows, and the chill dropping minute by minute on the little degree-thingie on the dashboard.    And of course, I wore an old plastic Christmas-Tree pin on my coat---it's been around since plastic was a pup---cause that's what Grandmas do.  You wear a plastic Christmas ornament/holly/tree on your lapel to a Christmas program with kids. 

 

 

It was FABULOPOLUS.  They sang their little hearts out, with her in a swingy, swirly red velvet dress and all the little girls dressed as if to go see Nutcracker, as we had last weekend.   THAT was a snow-on-the-ground day, as well, and we wore velvet and sparkly pins and she spent more time in the back of the box, dancing to the music JUST FOR HER< THAT ORCHESTRA, than in her seat looking raptly over at the magic on the stage.

 

I digress.   If you could hear the distinctive, unmistakable sounds here behind me---the scrooooooooch-scritttttttttch-scurch of a great roll of strapping tape being wound round and round a huge box of goodies for the FL clan---you'd know Chris' destination for the day.  Everything (I'll have to go look and see if he DID leave the sink) is in it, including my previous NOOK all loaded with everything I've been reading for the past two years.   And many, many are little-girl books---Alcott and Understood Betsy (my all-time favorite of all) and the Maida books, and all of Austen, with lots for DD and DSIL, as well.   For any of your own little ones, DO look into Betsy and the Maidas, for they were the delights of my heart when I was very young, and I don't think they've faded with time.

 

Our little annual tea will be this weekend.  Just us same six ladies as always, and usually about the same menu, for one is GF, and has never been able to eat much anywhere else.   Even my recipe for Paminna cheese is right, and she digs right in.   (as much as a lady of my age, and of genteel raising and dignified bearing, can be said to partake in that fashion).

 

Must get me to the work.   Much to do---Chris did some of the party-shopping yesterday and he came home with all sorts of goodies---including charming three-color Christmas tree-shaped ravioli from Sam's---can't wait to see how they cook.   We planned tri-color tortellini, on skewers, cold, threaded with grape tomatoes and bocconcini balls and a pesto drizzle, but these are too cute to pass up.

 

 

It's really always a little supper, rather than tea, with a Christmassy table. And then we clear away, and go upstairs and get the cookies for our swap---spreading them all OVER the tables down here, and laughing like little kids. Our oldest lady is 87 (Honey, whose birthday breakfast I do every June) and dating the nicest gentleman. Blushes and simpers all round.  

 

I'm SO looking forward to a pretty occasion, for we've not really entertained since last January on Chris' birthday.  Houseguests, yes; comfy big meals with paper plates and everybody cheerfully dishing up and carrying things from stove to table, yes;  holidays with the traditional dinners and the pretty plates and cloth and hearts full of celebration, yes.  But an occasion to polish silver and get out the Mammaw goblets and dust all those top teapots WAY back in the corner---not in a while.   Just haven't felt like it.

 

You'd make our table absolutely exponentially more wonderful, had we a transporter to hand.   And Sweetpea and her Ganner would stay home from the movie and she'd entertain at her own table, pouring out for your own little ones.   (She's long known "finger on the pot-lid" when she pours, and now with her tiny newest pot, I've caught her with three fingers on the handle and index on the lid, deftly pouring one-handed whilst she creams and sugars with the other).

 

Love to you and all in your own homes.   Warm, warm love, and thank you for these five years of visiting us here at Lawn Tea.

 

rachel