Tonight is the longest night of the year, and somehow the gov't has seen fit to make today a statutory holiday for me. I'm still "on my blackberry" as acting director for the remainder of the month, but besides that today is going to be all about the goose.
Tonight will be all about eating the goose, and laughing with our bellies full of bad-tempered bird, bright vegetables, and warm fruit pies.
On Friday I snuck out of the office hours early to search my favourite fabric shops (I'm learning to discern!) for tablecloth-worthy fabric.
When a coworker explained that the sort of textured tablecloth I was looking for, to fit our 8-ft table would run me over $100 in some brand-name shop, I turned the other way and hemmed the damned edges myself.
After the intricate ordeal of making the kasha lining for my new winter coat -- the table cloth was the downtime before bed that night.
I opted out of hemming matching napkins from the extra yard as the fabric was too dense for soft wiping action, but the dining room is bordering on organized and the guests have all confirmed and there's a case of each shade of wine, the port has been aging all year, and beer is on the list for today along with the great gallumphing goose that Dave ordered from the market last week.
Both gravy boats are washed and ready to be filled with gravy in one and citrus sauce for the goose in the other, though I've yet to settle upon receptacles for the creamed garlic salad dressing and the blue cheese salad dressing (since I hate garlic but I'm not sure all of our guests like blue cheese). The recipes for all sets of sauces are jotted down on post-its that I will paste to the cupboard doors by the stove for quick reference.
There is tidying to be done (as always), but the stuffing will be quick to make and the salad is of Ford's clever inspiration and only requires a grater for the carrots and raw beet -- and the spinach leaves are washed and sitting crisply.
M and Q are bringing squash and cheerily usurped my pie-making duties and are bringing two pies as well, D and N are bringing dips and snacking veggies and other fingerlicious things to sit in the living room to quiet empty bellies while the goose sizzles away and J + K's veggie casserole reheats in the oven.
Kitty is bringing peanut-safe ice creams to round off the pies and set us talking late into the night on sugar buzz.
Special roast coffee beans sit with the dozen teas to nestle between rounds of wine and digestifs. I found a box of "sugar rocks" for $0.99 at the grocery store that will glow golden from the sugar bowl.
Each loved one will be handed a kir on the way in, before being set loose on the soho-and-juice or beer.
Tonight will be as warm as humanly possible, I know that already -- and the peace that comes with this is so new to me. At previous gatherings I was all nerves and crank, pushing myself to do as much as I could in as short a time, bristling at the thought that someone might find an item less than perfect and all the while forgetting to enjoy the process. This year for some reason I am content with my sewing machine tucked in the corner behind the credenza, and utterly unconcerned if the goose were to singe and set the oven on fire (a heavy risk I seem to glean from the internet) and we were to end up eating pizza on matching plates with charred orange and lemon sauce.
I have a faint inkling that the sheer anticipation of having such family (if only S were able to join us, and perhaps the Montreal crew) all in one place and stuffed happily to the eyeballs, is a new warmth for me. For some reason, amidst the tragedy of this year I seem to have learned to trust the love in these folks in a way that I have never managed before.
Some large part of it is due to Dave's influence on my state of mind, of course, but perhaps part of it is also due to the greatness of my friends and the ability that I am learning to appreciate such strength as they continuously buoy me with.
Mmm. Pre-dawn pontifications are often weighted with some strange ephemeral emotions, but I like them. The roll across my shoulders spreading warmth into the morning air.
Today will be glorious, and I am wishing each grain of warmth to each of my beloved family -- especially the ones I only ever see through diaryland these days. I wish you were here (or I there) to share some of this magic with you, in a darkening month when we all seem to need it so much.