Town Christmas Tree Lighting

Each year the town Christmas tree is set up outside of the White Salmon Boat Works.

This isn't a public square or city park, but it's on the main shopping street in town and there's a large space here between the building and the road that's perfect for gathering. I'm not even sure who coordinates all the little details, but the last couple of years there have been fires and complimentary s'mores.

The fires were welcome on such a cold night. Holly was in her little "polar bear" outfit keeping warm in the stroller. This is her typical get-up for picking up the girls from school, although with all the snow on the ground she usually rides in a backpack. (Snowy roads aren't stroller-friendly.)

We went over to the tree lighting after spending the afternoon at the library's holiday open house. There was a bell choir and brass and string ensembles playing Christmas carols. There were goodies and kids' crafts and a lot of our friends.

It's times like these that I really enjoy living in a small town. The mayor led the children in the tree lighting. He asked everyone to count to three and blow, and then . . .

Ta-da! (Notice the white salmon topping the tree.)

The mayor also told the kids that if everyone wore their pajamas inside-out and backwards for three days we'd get snow. I guess they listened. We're no longer dreaming of a white Christmas. We'll have one.

Durable Decoration

Believe it or not, I've had this candy house for TWENTY-SIX years. I made it in Miss Lizak's kindergarten class at Brookwood Elementary School in Sandy, Utah.

My mom saved it and eventually passed it on to me. I've used it every year as part of our Christmas decor. This year when I took it out, for the first time, some of the candy was feeling sticky. Maybe its days are numbered, hence the photos.

Twelve Days of Christmas in the Sciptures

Every year on Christmas morning before opening any gifts, my family reads the Biblical story of the Nativity in Luke chapter 2. Many years ago, on Christmas Eve I began to read in 3 Nephi in The Book of Mormon about the events on the night of Christ's birth. Several years ago I decided to go back even further and for each of the 12 days leading up to Christmas I found scriptural references relating to Christmas--not only the events that happened, but prophecies and teachings about why they needed to happen.

Reading these scriptures has become one of my Christmas traditions. I shared this list with my family a few years ago, and this year I want to share it with all of you. I've included links so you can go directly to the scriptural reference via the website for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, or print the list and tuck it into your own scriptures. If you don't have a Book of Mormon, you can get a free copy here.

Merry Christmas

Read each reference in the days leading up to Christmas.

December 14 Moses 6:57-62--Plan of salvation revealed to Adam: why the Lord must come.

December 15 Moses 7:42-47--Enoch asks when the Lord will come.

December 16 Isaiah 9:6--"Unto us a son is given."

December 17 1 Nephi 10:4-6--Lehi's prophecy: 600 years until the birth of Christ

December 18 Isaiah 7:14 & Matthew 1:23--A virgin shall conceive.

December 19 Alma 7:10--Jesus shall be born of Mary.

December 20 Luke 1:26-38--Gabriel visits Mary.

December 21 Luke 1:46-55--Mary rejoices.

December 22 Matthew 1:18-25--Account of Jesus' birth

December 23 Helaman 14:1-8--Prophecy of Samuel the Lamanite

December 24 3 Nephi 1:4-21--Sign is given on the night of Christ's birth

December 25 Luke 2:1-20--Christ is born in Bethlehem

Brian's MU Fried Rice

The "MU" stands for "Made-up." Brian is my dad.

Tonight I made his fried rice. I've only made it a couple of times before. Tonight wasn't my best effort. Last time I think was my best. While tonight was pretty good, last time I couldn't help from just gobbling it up. But tonight as I was cooking it, I had a realization. Fried rice is one of my comfort foods.

Now, if you were to ask me about my favorite foods, I would not say fried rice. Or if you were to have previously asked me about memories from my childhood, I don't think fried rice would have been on the list. However, tonight as I was stir-frying and trying to get the color and the look of my rice just right, I realized how many memories I have of Dad's fried rice. I can remember trying to sneak a little bit of crumbled bacon from where it was draining on a paper-towel-covered plate next to the stove. I remember sitting at the table as Dad walked around it dishing up heaping piles of the hot rice directly from the pan. I remember cranking out extra pepper from our wooden pepper grinder. And I can remember being disappointed when there wasn't enough rice for seconds. I know I had to develop a taste for the fresh bean sprouts, and that there was probably a time when I picked through my plate and ate all my bacon first.

I also credit fried rice for my misguided thinking that rice was a difficult food to cook. You see, when you make fried rice, you have to start with cold rice. That requires cooking it ahead of time and then giving it time to cool. So, when I received phone calls from my dad at work saying, "Tell mom to cook some rice and I'll make fried rice tonight," I assumed rice was complicated--or at least took a long time to cook. When I got married, I had never cooked rice. I quickly learned that it wasn't so tough and it's become a staple at our dinner table.

The real key to the authentic flavor--at least of the MU version--is the dark sesame oil used for frying. I don't think I had quite enough of it tonight, but the last time I made it the flavors were all perfect and I was transported back in time to my parents' dinner table. Damon probably thought I was crazy. I just kept going on and on about how it was so good and reminded me of being a kid and was just like my dad had made and oh, oh, oh--all this between mouthfuls.

So, here's to childhood memories that are brought to the fore through the marvelous senses of taste (and smell). And, here's to my dad and his many MU recipes.

Snow Day!

We got our first snowfall in late November, resulting in TWO snow days off school. That's all our school calendar allows, so we're in trouble. Anymore cancellations and the kids will be going extra days in June. Fortunately, one of the best snow days was on the Saturday after Thanksgiving, which was also Damon's birthday. After a quick breakfast we got all bundled up,

and then we headed down the street.

There had really been no plowing to speak of, so a stroller for Holly was out of the question. This backpack was great because I was able to put her down and still have her up off the snowy ground. She handled it for awhile, but Damon and I also took turns holding her.
The six of us descended upon the snowy school playground,

for sliding . . .

. . . of one kind . . .

. . . and another.

Everyone had a turn going down the little hill, even Holly. She rode a couple times with Mom and Dad.

. . . and even once by herself! (Don't worry, we didn't start her from the top.) She didn't seem to think much of sledding, one way or another. She mostly just had a puzzled look on her face, like, "What are you guys doing to me now?"

We all had a great time being the first to make footprints in the soft snow, sledding and rolling down the hills, swinging, and sliding (that tunnel slide was sure quick!). The kiddos loved it--and even loved each other!

Da-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na

They say it's your birthday!

It's my birthday, too, yeah!

It's fun to have your birthday and your spouse's be 8 days apart. We do lots of joint celebrations and joint gifts, but we always have our own cakes.

Damon's was really more of an ice cream pie, but yummy and full of candles nonetheless.

They say it's your birthday.

We're gonna have a good time.

I'm glad it's your birthday.

Happy birthday to you!

Random Acts of Fun-ness

Here's Adah, being silly and dressing up like her dad. I think she's even wearing his belt. (But those are my glasses.)

Giddy-up! Maggie insisted on driving the "wagon" and making Gunnar ride shotgun.

Licking the beater has never been sweeter. . . or messier.