memories 4 Comments

I Believe In Santa Claus

I remember the day well. I was six years old, and it was December 1982. I was sitting at the kidney-bean-shaped table in the front of my first-grade classroom, with the five or six other kids in my Advanced Reading group.

Mrs. Henighan asked us, “How many of you believe in Santa Claus?”

I raised my hand, of course. What was there not to believe? I didn’t realize there was any believing or not-believing involved. Santa had magic keys to my apartment, and brought me toys on Christmas Eve. End of story.

Only one or two other kids raised their hands.

The teacher then asked that fateful but inevitable follow-up question of the nonbelievers: “Why don’t you believe in Santa Claus?”

One kid said that Santa’s handwriting looked just like their Dad’s. Another said that they’d peeked out one Christmas Eve and seen their parents putting presents under the tree. I think one person said they’d never believed.

I was in shock and denial.

When I got home from school that day, I told my Mom what had happened, and asked her if Santa Claus was real. Of course, she then told me the story of Santa: how there once was a real man who gave toys to children on Christmas, and how we now celebrate Santa Claus as a symbol of the Spirit of Christmas.

It made sense, and the knowledge somehow made me feel a little older. A little less young.

Of all the things I don’t believe in anymore, I still believe in Santa Claus, after all this time. With all my prickly annoyance at insipid Christmas music and my denial of the faith in which I was raised, I still believe in the spirit of giving.

I also find it amazing that so many different brands of myth and folklore could come together to create this magical, mythical caricature of jollity and charity. Saint Nicholas must have been one hell of a guy.

food 1 Comment

New Traditions

It appears that, in addition to keeping alive the Christmas tradition of sausage cake, I have inadvertently begun a new tradition.

Both this year and last year, I had to run out and purchase an ingredient last-minute. Both years, it was a vital ingredient for the brown-sugar glaze (although it hasn’t been the same ingredient I was missing). Both years, I attempted to buy the ingredient at the Quik Mart just down the street, but was foiled and had to drive seven minutes to Kroger instead — for one singular ingredient.

Hopefully, I can maintain the tradition of the sausage cake not sucking.

Oh, and in case you aren’t privy to the joys of baking with meat, it’s apparently a Welsh recipe handed down through the Cook family. As far as our family recipe goes, I’m sworn to secrecy, but this one will give you an idea of what it’s all about. It tastes kind of like a heavy spice cake. With a thick glaze / candy coating of brown sugar, reminiscent of maple candies. Except made with brown sugar instead of maple syrup.

OMG, so good. Sausage cake IS Christmas to me.

photography

Thoughts on Flickr

I had mentioned earlier that I wasn’t sure how often I would actually use Flickr, being that I have my own MO for posting pics.

Tonight, I discovered the Flickr Groups.

This is going to be a treasure trove of project ideas. I’ve joined groups like Nikon D50 Users, “I love my cat,” the Tips From The Top Floor podcast group, Night Images, Bowling Green OH, Toledo OH… and, finally, one for which I WON’T be using my D50 to take photos, “Camera Toss.”

If I ever run out of ideas for things to photograph, I need only pick a group, and I’m on my way.

memories 8 Comments

Portraits of Christmas Past


Since Aaron and I moved in together and bought ourselves our very own plastic prelit Christmas tree, I decided to initiate a new tradition: Christmas family portraits. This year, with the arrival of the new Nikon D50 digital SLR (read: fancy camera), I decided it might be fun to look at the photos of our Christmases so far.

It’s interesting to see how we’ve changed, and how my craft has improved over the years.

I do have to mention, though, that one thing remains constant. After witnessing my mother trying to pose the two of us for portraits way back in ’97, I know that the basis of getting a good portrait with Aaron is making sure he is comfortable. Mom can pose portraits well — she worked for Olan Mills for 10 years or so, and continues to work in a portrait studio — but Aaron’s back doesn’t deal well with the kinds of sitting and twisting she requests sometimes. Make sure Aaron’s comfy, then fit me and the cat in the picture, and everything’s on it’s way to being good. 🙂