For years and years I have baked my way through the holidays. My parents were snowbirds, gone for the winter, so my holidays were unfettered by expectations or obligations. This led to a pattern that continues even now.
I’d prep hors d’oeuvres to munch on each day and then I’d light the candles, drink the drinks, turn up the music, and bake. All kindsa cookies, and cakes, and breads. For days.
People came and people went, randomly.
For certain people, I fashioned to-go boxes. For other people I shipped, or stopped by to drop off goodies after Christmas.
I very much enjoyed this. It was peaceful and relaxed.
People asked me, “But don’t you get lonely?”
Oh, People, No.
I have plenty of fond memories of Christmases with extended family, where I’d play chase with my cousins and devour sections of a cheeseball every time I ran through the room. Remember when Mary Ann was learning to read and she thought the book title was “How to Attack Birds?” Remember when Barbie and He-Man had a war under the pool table?
There are photos of me, pajama-and-slipper-clad, sat at the organ.
Doesn’t it look like I was having a good time?
Many times, the baking has been a family thing:
In the course of 21?22? years, I’ve also taken some years off…
So some good times were also had skiing, playing poker (again in pajamas, maybe also drunk and flashing people) or in Florida, caroling on a golf cart — and as wonderful as those times were, I still prefer being home, baking and having people stop by.
Who wouldn’t want to be The Holiday Oasis of No Expectation? Wouldn’t you like to take a break and head to Joey’s for a snack? She’ll have tons of yummy savories, plus an open bar, and fresh, hot coffee. And her kitchen will look like a bakery.
Pajamas and slippers optional.