Happy Holidays!!

Happy Holidays from Your HS Teachers

Happy Holidays!!

From All of Us . . . to All of You!!  Happy Holidays!!
Your High School Teachers

"Christmas Eve" by Ms. Susan Brewer

What I’d like to remember are the many Christmas Eves we had when my family was whole.

My sister, her husband, and her boys would come and stay for a couple of weeks at my parents’ house. My brother and his wife and two step-sons would come over from the town nearby.

We’d have a big family dinner with all of us shoe-horned into the den, the kitchen, and the living room. Food was generally rib roast (my mother’s favorite), baked rice, butter beans (or “round beans” as my youngest daughter called them), a vegetable tray, bread, and pie (usually pecan).

After that, we’d gather around the Christmas tree and pass out gifts. Someone would play “Santa.” We had started drawing names, so at this point we found out who had our names. The kids would invariably get toys (I really miss shopping for toys…) and maybe some clothes. My parents gave us money (always in fashion) and maybe an item of clothing. We always gave them something memorable like framed pictures or antique “somethings” since they really bought whatever they needed. As they got older, we gave gift certificates to restaurants.

After we opened our presents, we’d go to Christmas Eve service. That was always a challenge with my oldest nephew who liked to talk out loud about everything going on, even the solo of “O, Holy Night” was often a chance for him to critique loudly how the soloist had done (“Too loud!” “Too high!” “She missed a note!”). The best was then and still is now the candle-lighting in the darkened church at the end of the service. Of course it was also an opportunity to see what kids could almost set on fire and how much candle wax we could get on our clothes or shoes. I still have a pair of black suede pumps with candle wax on them.

Then we’d go home and wait for the “real” Santa to bring gifts on Christmas Day, which was almost an after-thought after Christmas Eve. To this day, Christmas Eve will always be my favorite day of the year.

Thanks for the opportunity to revisit. I have lost my brother, my father, and that oldest nephew who was so full of life. My mother is in assisted living and rehab and losing her abilities almost daily. I don’t know what this Christmas will bring, but things are looking up and new traditions will begin when my daughters marry (one in April) and we will add some new family members and start again. I guess a valley or two makes us appreciate the mountains in our lives.

"Poppy Seed Roll Cake" by Ms. Melissa D'Annunzio

My favorite holiday tradition involves a cake that I have been obsessed with for about 38 years. It’s a Poppy Seed Roll Cake (kind of like a strudel or coffee cake) that is served at Christmas and Easter in many central and eastern European countries, along with Israel. There are many filling variations, but my favorite is the Polish version my mother makes called makowiec. This cake is nothing like the poppy seed cake or muffins that many of us are familiar with (yellow pound cake with poppy seeds sprinkled throughout). Those are great, but the poppy seed flavor is very light. Makowiec is made from a sweet yeast dough and a thick ribbon of filling that is rolled into it. The filling is made out of Solo brand poppy seeds, rum raisins, and orange zest. There’s even a Wikipedia link for it!  

http://en.wikipedia.orgwikiMakowiec_%28pastry%29

One of my first memories involves this cake and its incredible flavor. My Polish mother took me on a trip from the U.S. to communist Poland in 1973 when I was about two years old so that I could meet my grandparents for the first time. The only thing I remember about that trip is a moment when I stood in the small kitchen and my grandmother bent down and put something heavenly in my mouth. My little taste buds were blown away. To this day, I haven’t been able to recreate the taste of that particular cake; it seemed moister than any version my mother or I have been able to make. I have searched out and eaten versions of this cake in Poland, France, Austria, New York City, Paris, and West, Texas, a small town with a little Czech bakery off the interstate. In fact, I have been known to eat an entire cake in one sitting. That is the equivalent an entire loaf of bread. J

The only downside is that the cake takes 5-6 hours to make because you have to let the dough rise twice. Also, the cans of Solo brand poppy seed are hard to find in most stores (although Publix carries it). Because I don’t have much time to bake, I usually only eat it once a year, making it all the more precious. It has to be PERFECT or the holiday is RUINED! When the yeast doesn’t rise properly, my mother and I sulk for a few hours, analyze what could possibly have gone wrong (the kids were too loud, there was a draft, the room temperature wasn’t right), and we start all over again the next day.
 
If you’re interested in making it yourself, here are the details. My recipe is very long, so I searched the net for what seems to be a good one: http://noblepig.com/2010/09/04/poppyseed-roll-makowiec.aspx The writer is as obsessed with the cake as I am! J The only addition I would make to the recipe is that the Solo brand poppy seed filling should be mixed with about half a cup of raisins soaked in rum (completely optional if the under 21 crowd is eating it) and some orange peel zest (or a tablespoon of OJ if you’re in a pinch). Also, the 40-60 minute cooking time seems a little long. I usually cook it 35-40 minutes.

Thanks for allowing me to share one of my favorite holiday traditions!

"Making a List" by Ms. Jeanette Shuler

Every year my brothers, sister and I would write out a wish list and send it to my Grandparents. My sister always knew exactly what she wanted and had about 10 items on her list the same was true for my brothers. I could not think of anything I wanted, so I asked my mom for some help. She said, “Well, you could use a new slip and some socks.” So I put those on my list and was excited that now I had something on my list. We sent our lists off to the grandparents. I did not think anything more of the list, until . . .

                We traveled down to Florida to spend Christmas with my grandparents. One of our family traditions was to always open gifts on Christmas Eve. The family gathered around the tree and my dad started handing out the presents, another tradition. As he was handing out the presents, I noticed that my siblings had a lot more presents then I did, I only had two. When the last present was handed out, we were allowed to open our presents. I opened my two presents, and I bet you can’t guess what I got, yep, that’s right a slip and some socks. My brothers and sister had about 10 toys if not more all around them, and all I got was a slip and socks.

                With tears in my eyes, I went to my mom and asked, with my slip and socks in hand, “Is this it?” My mom said, “Isn’t that what you asked for?” I replied, “Yes, but . . .” My grandma of course was in the corner watching all that was taking place and having a good laugh. She finally came over and said, let’s go see if Santa left you some presents somewhere else in the house. Under my grandma’s bed were several other presents, which “Santa” had forgotten to put under the tree. So from then on, I never just put just two items on my wish list. 

               

"Grinch Punch" by Ms. Lisa Staley

When I was little, part of our Christmas celebration included punch made with raspberry sherbet, ginger ale, 7-Up, and maraschino cherries.  One year, my mother delayed her shopping trip and the store was all out of raspberry sherbet.  All that was left was lime.  So, she made the punch with lime sherbet, and with its green froth and red cherries, it reminded me of the Grinch from my favorite holiday cartoon.   So, I named the concoction Grinch Punch, and it’s been a family tradition for over thirty years.  So, this holiday season, you might want to add Grinch Punch to your holiday celebration.  The lesson learned:  Make due with what you have.  You just might stumble upon something wonderful!   Have a blessed holiday season!!

"Oh Christmas Tree" by Mr. Billy Pennington

My wife, kids, and I are getting ready for our first holiday season in our new home.  The house itself is not new.  It is about 15 years old but we actually moved the house to its new location last December due to a lake construction project that resulted in family members selling the house to us.  No, it isn’t a modular or a mobile home, it is a beautiful, stick-built home, that we are extremely blessed to have.  

Last year, we spent Thanksgiving and Christmas, and several snowy weeks in January living with my parents, younger brother, and two grandmothers, who all are now our next door neighbors.  Amazing, we all still love each other this year.  Enough said about that experience.  Another story for another time.

Having never been in this house during the holidays, there are no prior experiences to warm the heart, so everything is a new tradition.  My wife and I have been so excited about getting a Christmas tree.  The house has amazing vaulted ceilings that are about 25ft. high at the peak.  Nothing would do but for us to have a Christmas tree to suit that high ceiling, so we have been looking all over for the tallest, pre-lit tree (with crystal clear bulbs) we could afford. 

Low and behold, the evil empire to the rescue…Wal-Mart has a 12ft. pre-lit tree on sale earlier this week for a third of what we had expected to pay for a much smaller one.  My wife calls me from a nearby Wal-Mart because the thing will not fit into her Honda Civic so my seven year-old and I head off to the next nearest supercenter where me and the stockboy wrestle the monstrous box into the back of my Suburban.  My daughter and I sang Christmas carols all the way home.  We couldn’t wait to put the tree together yesterday (the day before Thanksgiving) while Mom was at work and we were all out of school.  She would be so surprised.

The next morning, the task began.  Amazingly, putting this tree together was quite simple.  That is something odd from most of the foreign made products that come from Wal-Mart.  I honestly think that these foreign manufacturers tell their engineers to make putting together products as confusing as they can for us, the imperialist and spoiled Americans.  Yet another story for another time.

Within an hour I had the tree, only four pieces, together and lit, with the boxes, bubble wrap, directions, and warranty information all safely in the trash before my wife got home to see the mess.  The kids were amazed at the size of the tree.  I was more in shock over the size of the tree.  Nonetheless, I would get used to it and so I began the process of fluffing (for lack of a more manly word) the branches.  That took about three hours, but in the end the tree was very full and very beautiful.  It also made a great hiding place for the kids to climb behind.

My wife came home and commended our work and thought the tree was very pretty.  She was excited to get back to Wal-Mart to begin buying decorations.  She had it all planned out…gold and red, I think.  Meanwhile, I began to have this sinking feeling in my stomach.

I wasn’t exactly sure what was wrong with me, so I began the daily task of getting the kids ready for bed, reading books, etc.  Within a few hours, everyone was sound asleep when I awoke.  It wasn’t the sound of reindeer on the lawn or Old Saint Nick on the roof.  It was my brain at work.

I was a kid again…somewhere between the ages of my kids, four and seven.  I began to live out all the Christmases that I could remember all the way up to the most recent one with my own kids.  I had stolen Christmas away from them.  We had always had a real Christmas tree and they were usually very ugly…until we decorated them and made them beautiful.  That is, after all, what you are supposed to do, right?  The smell of pine or cedar, getting tangled up in the Christmas lights, sticky resin on your hands, ornaments that are too heavy to hang on the tree, watering daily, giving the tree an aspirin to make it live longer, a topper that was always crooked because it was too big for the top of the tree…the torturing thoughts continued. 

Then I began to think of my parents.  When I was a kid we lived in a very simple single-wide trailer.  My dad and mom worked so hard for everything we had.  Every Christmas we had a cedar Christmas tree cut from the woods behind my Pop’s house.  In the Christmas photos (and a few Super 8 films) you could see ornaments and a stem, but rarely any branches.  They were truly Charlie Brown Christmas trees and I loved them!  I can even remember the smell of the enormous multi-colored bulbs scorching the branches because they would get so hot and how badly they burned if you touched your finger to them, which was just too tempting to pass up.

What would it make my parents feel like to look across their yard and see this 1,100 clear-tipped behemoth in our window.  Sure, they now have a two-story cape cod in this same cul-de-sac, but this excuse for a tree is just down-right gaudy looking and we hadn’t even put the first decoration on it.

Even after moving out and having my own family, we went to the tree farm or roadside tree stand and picked out “our” tree together.  We struggled it onto a stand and into the house and beautified it to the best of our ability.  I couldn’t even reach the majority of this tree without a ladder.  How would the kids enjoy it?

Enough!  I had to go to sleep.  The tree would look better in the morning.  I was having buyer’s remorse.  Tomorrow was Thanksgiving Day.  With a full stomach and some down time the tree situation would resolve itself.

This morning I awoke to the eagerness of my kids to not waste a moment of the holiday sleeping.  They ran off through the house and I made my way into the living room.  There she was, the 12ft Williams Varied Tipped aristocrat staring down her nose at me.  The tree literally made me feel like I couldn’t breathe.  Who ever heard of being claustrophobic around a Christmas tree?

Meanwhile, the day was underway.  Cooking, cleaning, getting ready to eat more than we deserve like fellow Americans all across the nation.  We went to my parent’s so I didn’t have to look at the tree too much.  Out of sight, out mind…for a bit.  But then we had to return home and my wife began the joys of paging through dozens of Black Friday sales papers.  During the shopping, I expressed my “issues” over the tree.  She chuckled and said calmly, as she always does, “if you don’t like it then just take it back, I’ll be happy with a seven footer.”  We returned to flipping through the catalogs. 

The only thing we had planned on even maybe purchasing this year was a new digital camera that had a decent video feature since ours went out a few months back.  Suddenly, however, after a few hours of looking at the wish books (as my grandfather used to call them), we were ready to bear arms against thousands of Black Friday experts to fight over the ten big screen televisions that were going to be sold at a ridiculously low price, beginning at midnight.  Who would go, me or my wife?  One of us had to stay home with the kids, so she would go.  Meanwhile, I would look for a new camera online. 

I read a story to our son and my wife tucked in our daughter.  When I finished the story, she (my wife that is) was sound asleep.  I woke her.  She said very calmly, find a TV online and order it if you want it…I am going to sleep.  And she did.

Was I dreaming, my wife just gave me permission to break out the Visa card to buy a new TV?  I shopped every Thanksgiving Day only deal online and found several very comparable prices to what we were going to pay in person.  Before pressing the online checkout button, though, I was hungry.  So I warmed some leftovers and sat down to eat them.  There it was staring at me...The Towering Tannenbaum.

Worse than the guilty character in a Poe short story I resolved to deal with the issue at hand, even if it meant burying the thing in the basement.  “I can take it down and pack it back up,” was my first thought, but that was hard to do since I had thrown away most everything that came with the tree and what was left my kids had turned into a playhouse in the garage.  “I can try to sell it on Amazon,” came to mind, but I would never be able to get even half what I paid for it back and the shipping would be insane.  “I can burn it and pretend it caught fire,” but that would do too much damage to the rest of the house and I have worked way to hard on it over the past year.  What to do?

I pondered the task at hand and finally, the answer came as if Santa had dropped it right down the chimney.  I would remove a portion of the tree to make it smaller.  It was near midnight, so everyone was asleep.  I had to be quiet dragging the ladder into the house and dismantling the tree, removing the bottom, and then rebuilding it again, trying to disconnect all the pre-lit lighting wires that were so meticulously color-coded, and figuring out how to get them to work again.

A twist here, a turn there and the tree lay sprawled across the living room floor.  Did I even want to put it back up?  I could do this, so I went to work having to leave out step number 1, or was it step number 4?  After a while, I had done it.  I cut that beast down to size…a simple, nine foot tree now stands where the monster had been and it was much slimmer at the bottom.  It leans a little to the right since the base was designed for a larger version of itself.

As I dealt with the (or should I say my) issues over the Christmas tree, the Thanksgiving Day only deal on the TV had passed, but not the one on the camera.  I ordered the camera, but no TV and my Visa card is a lot lighter.  After I pray and thank God for all the many, many blessings that he has given to such an undeserving me, I take one last look at the tree.  I think to myself, “your eyes are bigger than your stomach.”  Of course, that means you get more food on your plate than you can eat, but this Thanksgiving, it meant much more to me. I will go to bed happy with my tiny 32” television set, a Christmas tree that is still four feet taller than me, and no hunger. 

Tomorrow, me and the kids will string a few rows of colored lights on the much too white, pre-lit Williams Varied-Tipped and then head over to my Dad’s where I know he will be more than happy to walk with us into the woods to cut down a true to life, sticky, smelly, cedar Christmas tree for his house.