Christmas Eve Prep--Underway!

Ready for the family arrival on Christmas Eve

When you get older, you start earlier (in about every way). So for the past few weeks Joyce and I have been getting ready to host our son and his family on Christmas Eve here at our Hudson home.

In weeks past I have made the white fruitcake (from my grandmother Osborn's recipe), the "tree-bread" (inspired by the ones my mother used to make), the cornbread and sourdough bread we'll have with our meal.

Joyce has been wrapping, wrapping, wrapping--and has done the vast majority of the shopping, online and brick-and-mortar. She has planned the meal (which I'll tell more about post-meal). She has already set the dining room table (see pic at the top of this post).

Today, I'm going to start fussing with another old family recipe--my grandmother Osborn's steamed pudding (with hard sauce--a substance, butter and powdered sugar--that surely rivals the most alluring illegal drugs). Tomorrow, it will bubble away above the double-boiler for three hours, and when we eat it, our teeth will instantly form cavities. (Oh, is it sweet!)

When son Steve and his family arrive (mid-afternoon), we will have some tree-bread, then settle around the table. We'll sing "Joy to the World" (which my family has done my entire life) and, pre-dessert, collectively recite "A Visit from St. Nicholas"--which we forgot to do last year. I first memorized that poem back at Adams Elementary School in Enid, Oklahoma (reciting it to some patient parents at some kind of holiday gathering at school), and it's pretty much remained in my head ever since. Well ... I confess ... I rehearse it on T-Th-Sat at the health club when I'm walking my mile of laps around the indoor track.

Then we'll adjourn to the living room--and the (gas) fireplace. The weather forecast informs me that fireplace heat will be superfluous--but we'll do it anyway ("the fire is so delightful" and all that). We will open gifts, will ooh and ahhh; we'll pause midway (or so) to rot our teeth with steamed pudding + hard sauce.

And then it will be over. They will gather up their things (always, always, always forgetting something!), then head back to their home in Green, Ohio, and Joyce and I will do a little clean-up, then fall into bed, full of gratitude, full of food, full of the knowledge that this may be the last year we'll be able to do the Full-Meal-Deal Holiday Dinner and Celebration.

We hope not, of course. But Time doesn't give a damn about our hopes.

Stopping now--must go to the kitchen and fuss with pudding-prep. Can't wait to feel the rot in my teeth tomorrow!