The Spirit of Good Cheer...

...Needn't Come Once a Year!

This has been a lovely Christmas in July (though I'm still puzzled as to why its not in June?)

Thanks to all who participated (including those who visited instead of hosting) and a special thanks to Maggi for hosting it! Everyone is absolutely and amazingly creative!

I'm off to bed now, to dream of sugar plums, and all the wonderful goodies I discovered today. Perhaps I shall be newly inspired and try to do more cooking/baking?

Me, on Christmas night, after way too much food:

photo credit

P.s. If I threatened to steal your pet/baby this CIJ, I am sorry, and have managed (just) to restrain myself.  They were just all so darn cute!

It's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you

Dedicated to my sister Holly, who thought my parents made up the songs for her ("Oh Holly Night", etc.):

L.A. has little in the way of season changes.  Sure, the Jacarandas only flower mid June-July, and the Santa Ana winds of the fall power the intense fires in the hills and turn the sky a deep reddish orange, but, compared to many other regions of the world, this isn't quite how it works. So, naturally, Christmas in July, to a small child of this city looks completely possible. Something that I think/hope explains why I used to pester my 

mother at this time of year when Christmas was coming.  I can apparently wait a full year for all other holidays, including my own birthday, but I still believe Christmas should come every six months.  I think this lack of proper weather changes also explains why, the first snow I saw in Scotland this year sent me into a sort of tizzy. Even the fact that my roommate downgraded it to "frost", when woken up by me excitedly, failed to damper my spirits.  Sure, I've seen snow on holiday before, but there is something magical about having a place you know very well suddenly transformed into "a winter wonderland"... which, during our first actual snowfall post-frost incident, sang nonstop.

However, the thing that makes my L.A. Christmas magical, the thing that makes it my favorite holiday are the traditions.  It all begins the night before....

First, we make sure all the presents are under the tree, and then, while the little lights in the tree dance, we set about the serious business of making mince pies.  It is an exercise in patience, as we cannot eat them until tomorrow. Tonight, the only one eaten is by Santa, along with a glass of milk and a carrot for the reindeer.

Then it's off to bed to listen to my father read "The Night Before Christmas", a children's picture book, while the stockings hang on our beds with anticipation.  We never grow too old, and always pretend to find new things about the pictures.

I used to have a set time, before which I was NOT allowed to wake up my older sister.  I'd count down the minutes until that appointed hour, grab my heavy stocking and rush into her room to examine our prizes together.  My parents still ask what Santa brought.

A lazy breakfast of scrabbled eggs with a hint of truffle is followed by an even lazier (and horribly tormenting) getting ready.  Then the big moment arrives:  Opening presents, with powdered

sugar topped mince pies, pink champagne, and mulled hot apple juice.  Handel's Messiah playing loudly.

Then on to the cooking.  My dog and I sit at the kitchen's edge and pine for the wondrous smells, but we both know that a venture into the tiny and packed kitchen is not a good idea.  "OUT!"

Saved from the delicious scents at last, a  long "emtpying" walk is had... to empty the stomach in preparation.

And, at last, the food arrives.  Bowls and dishes, pots and gravy boats, all filled to the brim, dish out scrumptious items onto the table miraculously decorated by my father (he measures equal spaces between the plates with a tape measure).  The candles are lit, and the fire is roaring, for, although there is no snow, it is still Christmas.  The climax of the meal is the pud.  A rather icky mixture which includes rum and suet (animal fat), Christmas pudding is perhaps the most bizarre British recipe I know, as it is boiled for 8 

hours, stuffed in a cupboard for a year, and then covered with more rum and set on fire.  Ahh, those Brits!  We have it (or the veggie version in my case) and lots of cream to go with.

Then, when we doubt our clothes ability to withstand the bloated tum, and we have retired to comfy chairs by the fire.  We listen to Dylan Thomas' "A Child's Christmas in Wales".

A good Christmas all around, with its most important elements: traditions, lots of good food, and a wonderful family.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

Christmas in July: Amusing Musings from a Tired Brain

So last week I decided that I would make this blog a Sunday adventure, writing up the events of the past week.  As you can see, that worked out wonderfully (not).  I suppose my main problem is that I'm a perfectionist, and the more inspiring blogs I read, the more I feel mine cannot possible compete.  So I put it off, for a stroke of genius to appear at a later date.  I still feel a bit lacking in the genius department, but oh well.  Better late than never, right?

This blog was created to catalogue my achievements/adventures, as well as things that make me happy.  While I do not want to fill this with pages of my emotional writings (I found my old middle school LiveJournal, and I do not know why I ever thought anyone would ever me interested in that... slightly "emo"), hopefully this will be a place I can record my journey of "self-re-discovery".  Last summer, I ended (sort of) a six year romantic relationship.  To make matters worse, it was with my best friend, so there wasn't anyone to "take care" of me.  The best way I can describe what happened after that is simply that I shut down.  However, now I feel somewhat ready to try to reanimate myself, and come back into the real world.  Yet, having been one half of something for so long, I now have to find out who I am on my own.

I figure that this can be a place that I use to remind myself of the little things that bring a smile to my face (vintage shoes, for example).  Plus it will give me a weekly activity to add to my schedule, as, being slightly OCD, I LOVE making lists... always starting with "make list".  ;)

So, after a lengthy explanatory intro, this belated post:

1. (<-- notice it's a list!) My older sister just got an apartment in Hollywood, and we've been helping her move in.  This meant a trip to ikea, and way too much time salivating over everything.  I love housing stores (especially Potterybarn), but without a house of my own, I constantly have to be reminded that I do not own my own kitchen (*tear*).  Yet, I am somehow not drawn to the bathroom sets... I think when I have my own house, I will have a library, kitchen, and bedroom, but forget the bathroom.  The apartment, however, is fantastic; it's in an old 1920s/1930's building, with Jacaranda trees outside.  The only problem is that it is incredibly hot over there.

2). Speaking of heat... I'm melting!  I feel like the wicked witch when dorothy attacked her

with the water.  It's far too hot here, even though I'm close to the sea. You'd think, after spending more than half the year in Scotland, I'd appreciate this weather more.  But I'm a fan of the cold (and lovely vintage coats, mittens, boots, etc.).  I always get this problem in July, where I think it must be Christmas soon, right?  It's the problem of growing up in a city lacking extreme season changes.  I had my first snowy winter last year, and all I want, sweltering by my pool right now, is for it to be that time of year again.... "Santa baby, hurry down the chimney tonight..."

3). I re-watched The Big Sleep last night, which probably counts as my favorite movie of all time.  I'm not sure if it was the first Bogie and Bacall movie, but they are absolutely fantastic together!  It was also one of the first movies that used overlapping dialogue, which Lauren Bacall is particularly wonderful at.  He is, of course, amazing at everything he does (I would love to marry a Bogie of my own).  I think Bacall gets a lot less recognition than other women of her era, because not only is she a great actress (holding her own against the much older and experienced Bogart), I think she's gorgeous! 

4). Lastly, I have been hunting for a store in LA that sells pretty reproduction vintage lingerie, like some of the things from What Katie Did, but I can't find one.  I'm not fond of places like Victoria Secret or Frederick's of Hollywood, as they're not all that classy.  Does anyone know of any good shops?