.........But soon the steeples cassed good people all, to church and chapel, and away they came, flocking through the streets in their best clothes, and with their grayest faces.  And at the same time their emerged from scores of by-streets, lanes, and nameless turnings, innumerable people, carrying their dinners to the bakers' shops.  The sight of these poor revellers appeared to interest the Spirit very much, for he stood with Scrooge beside him in a baker's doorway, and taking off the covers as their bearers passed, sprinkled incense on their dinners from his torch.  And it was a very uncommon kind of torch, for once or twice when there were angry words between some dinner-carriers who had jostled each other, he shed a few drops of water on them from it, and theri good humour was restored directly.  For they said, it was a shame to quarrel upon Christmas Day.  And so it was!  God love it, so it was!

In time the bells ceased, ande the bakers were shut up; and yet there was a genial shadowing forth of all these dinners and the progress of their cooking, in the thawed blotch of wet above each baker's oven; where the pavement smoked as if its stones were cooking too.

"Is there a peculiar flavour in what you sprinkle from your torch?" asked Scrooge.

"There is.  My own."

"Would it apply to any knid of dinner on this day? " asked Scrooge.

"To any knidly given. To a poor one most."

"Why to a poor one most?" asked Scrooge.

"Because it needs it most."

"Spirit," said Scrooge, after a moment's thought, "I wonder you, of all the beings in the many worlds about us, should desire to cramp these people's opportunities of innocent enjoyment."

"I!" cried the Spirit.

"You would deprive them of their means of dining every seventh day, often the only day on which they can be said to dine at all," said Scrooge. "Wouldn't you?"

"I!" cried the Spirit.

"You seek to close these places on the Seventh Day?" said Scrooge.  "And it comes to the same thing."

"I seek!" exclaimed the Spirit.

"Forgive me if I am wrong.  It has been done in your name, or at least in that of your family," said Scrooge.

"There are some upon this earth of yours," returned the Spirit, "who lay claim to know us, and who do their deeds of passion, pride, ill-will, hatred, envy, bigotry, and selfishness in our name, who are as strange to us and all our kith and kin, as if they had never lived.  Remember that, and charge their doings on themselves, not us."

"There are many things from which I might have derived good, by which I have not profited, I dare say, Christmas among the rest.  But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round--- apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that----as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time: the only  time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and womenh seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys.  And therefore, uncle, though it has not put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that is has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!"

Saint Lucy of Syracuse

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Rich, young Christian of Greek ancestry. Raised in a pious family, she vowed her life to Christ. Her Roman father died when she was young. Her mother, Eutychia, arranged a marriage for her. For three years she managed to keep the marriage on hold. To change the mother’s mind about the girl’s new faith, Lucy prayed at the tomb of Saint Agatha, and her mother’s long haemorrhagic illness was cured. Her mother agreed with Lucy’s desire to live for God, and Lucy became known as a patron of those with maladies like her mother’s.

Her rejected pagan bridegroom, Paschasius, denounced Lucy as a Christian to the governor of Sicily. The governor sentenced her to forced prostitution, but when guards went to fetch her, they could not move her even when they hitched her to a team of oxen. The governor ordered her killed instead. After torture that included having her eyes torn out, she was surrounded by bundles of wood which were set afire; they went out. She prophesied against her persecutors, and was executed by being stabbed to death with a dagger. Her name is listed in the prayer “Nobis quoque peccatoribus” in the Canon of the Mass.

Legend says her eyesight was restored before her death.

I have been sitting here working on some long overdue scrapbooking and I came across these pictures of my grandmother (mother's mother) and my mother.  After reading the beautiful post by mooncatblue it got me to thinking about the similarities between the four of us; my grandmother, mother, myself, and my daughter.

My grandmother was a wonderful woman.  She never stopped learning all of her life.  I can remember when I was a teenager and the movie "Saturday Night Fever" came out.  She wanted to see it as much as her grand-daughters did.  And she bought the tickets and drove us to the theater and we all saw it together.  She is the person who taught me to drink shots of Irish Whiskey.  She would make me drink shots until I could do a shot without flinching.  Being Irish herself she thought that it was an important skill to have. 

Just before she died I was expecting my daughter.  I already had four sons and had given up hope of having a daughter.  I had also not announced to anyone that I was pregnant as yet.  She seemed to know, though, she also seemed to know that she was near the end.  She grabbed hold of the front of me one day in the hospital and told me that not only did she know that I was having a baby soon, but that it would be a girl and she wanted her to be named a certain way.  She wanted her named Mary-Katherine and she even spelled it for me so that I would spell it right.  I didn't take her seriously at the time because I didn't know she was going to die and I doubted that I would have a girl.  Two days later she died of a massive heart attack.  Four months later I gave birth to a baby girl that I named Mary-Katherine Suzanne.  I wouldn't dream of going against the wishes of my grandmother.  How I miss her still to this day.

My mother, her oldest daughter.  I am told as often that I look like her as that I look like my father.  I think I look like my mom but I act like my father and that is where people make their mistake.  My mother is very serious where my grandmother would as soon laugh as be serious.  My mother taught me to be organized and to do everything that I do the best that I could do it.  To do a job until it is done and not leave until all is complete.  She is the reason that I have been able to homeschool all of my children and survive.  She is why I do what I do and do it well.  My father is why I am willing to try anything but my mother is why I have the stubbornness to keep at something until I can do it right.

I have my mother's eyes and nose but I have my father's smile.  My father smiles and everyone around catches it like a cold.  My father is contagious. 

My daughter is beautiful.  She is everything that is good in both my husband and myself.  She has my goofiness and stubbornness when it comes to doing things and my husbands intelligence.  She has the grace of an athlete at times and the clumsiness of an elephant at other times.  She has a wonderful talent for not taking herself too seriously (comes from having a lot of brothers) and being able to laugh at herself. 

As much as my family drives me crazy sometimes, when I look at my daughter I am glad to see the result of all of us all together in her.

This is absolutely, without a doubt my favorite Christmas recipe.  This is the only time of the year that we make it.  I can remember when I was a very little girl watching my father make this.  My mother never makes this only my father.  It is a recipe that has come to me from him.  My children enjoy this for breakfast along with their tangerines from their stockings on Christmas morning.  In our house it wouldn't be Christmas without tangerines and Grandpa's Nut Roll. 

Nut Roll

Dough:

9 cups flour
3/4 cups sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 lb. of any good quality margarine
1 pkg. (3tsp.) dry yeast
1 cup milk
4 eggs, beaten
1 tsp vanilla

Mix yeast, sifted flour, sugar and salt together into a large bowl.  Using a bable knife or a pastry knife, cut margarine into the flour mixture until it is the size of peas.  Combine warm milk, beaten eggs and vanilla and add this to the flour mixture.  Knead the entire mixture until it comes clean from the fingers.  (this will require a great leap of faith.  It will seem as though the mixture needs more flour.  It will also seem to be an impossible sticky mess.)  All of these perceptions will fade away after 5 or 10 minutes of kneading.  Trust! Place the dough in a large bowl (with a pound of margarine in the dough, it is not necessary to grease anything).  Cover with plastic wrap and store in the refrigerator or other cold place over night.

Filling:

5 cups walnuts, ground as fine as possible
1 and 1/4 cups milk
1 and 1/4 cups sugar or honey (it is better with honey)
1 and 1/2 teaspoon vanilla

Mix all filling ingredients together in a saucepan.  Bring to a boil, stirring and scraping the bottom constantly to prevent burning to the bottom of the pan.  Remove from heat and allow to cool.  The mixture will resemble a thick paste, if the nuts were ground fine enough.  The filling may be stored in the refrigerator until needed.

When ready to use, cut dough into 4 portions and allow to stand at room temperature until it softens.  Flour a large surface and roll one of the portions out to a thickness of 1/8 inch, or as thin as possible.  Spread a quarter of the filling over the thin dough.  Roll up as you would a jelly roll and place on a large baking sheet.  Repeat for the remaining 3 portions.  Bake for 45 minutes at 325 degrees.  The appearance of the finished rolls can be enhanced by brushing the tops with beaten egg about 5 minutes before they are finshed baking.

The weather outside is frightful but in here:

Matthew is baking bread................

the fire is burning merrily................

everything is cozy and warm and here is where we are going to stay.  Ian called early this morning to say not to go anywhere this morning so I am going to heed his advice.  The snow is still falling and the wind is starting to pick up which means that soon we will have blowing and drifting snow as well as slippery roads.  It's a good day to stay inside and stay warm and get some things done.

You give up yet?  This was not an easy one.  Although I got all of them after a little thought and a trip to the dictionary to check on an expanded meaning for one of the words.

1.  Zone

2.  Slim-Fast

3.  Weight Watchers

4.  Atkins

Cranium does it again.  Boy I love that game.

1.  basketball theory of defense

2.  high-velocity litheness

3.  beholders of gravitational result

4.  e-mail symbol multitudinous family members

Answers later.

Today was  the day for all of my pre-op visits.  First we went to see the surgeon to have him explain the surgery to us and to ask all of our questions then sign all of the consents. 

What he is going to do is trim away the disc that is bulging out and pressing on the nerves that go to both of my legs.  Hopefully this will make the pain in my legs go away and make the feeling return to both of my feet.  Then he is going to reem out the holes that the nerves travel through so that they have more room.

Then he is going to stabilize the vertebra at L4 and L5 (at least) so that they have less forward and back movement and keep the disc from doing anymore bulging in the future.  If he finds extensive degeneration of the vertebra above there he will also stabilize them.

Five days in the hospital and then I should be back to normal? right?  He has decided not to use a body brace since he says he can rely on me to follow his care plan after I come home and he knows that I will have no trouble taking care of myself.  That is encouraging. 

We talked about pain management and he promises not to use morphine since I get so nauseous and tend to vomit on it. 

Then we went to the hospital to have blood drawn and to talk with the anesthesiologist.  They told me everything to expect when I am there and were very kind.  The anesthesiologist was competant and I feel that I will be in good hands.  He addressed my two concerns: about being premedicated before I leave the prep room and before they take me into the OR. (I don't want to know when they take me into the OR) and about pain management after surgery.  I usually don't require much pain medication post op.  I have never had orthopedic surgery before but I cannot imagine that I would need much for pain.  A little demerol until I can get on my feet then tylenol is enough.  They know about my migraines and are going to address those also.  They have orders for keeping them under control while I am there.

So I guess I am ready to go, right?  Wrong.  I have orders to take it easy until Monday and yet I have a list of things as long as my arm to get done.  Not because I am indispensible but because these are things that only I can do and because they won't let me drive for awhile after so they need to get done now.  Because I am manic with nerves and I need to be busy in order to make it to Monday mentally intact.  Taking it easy is no way for me to wait out the time from now until then.  Prayers you all, I need prayers.  To quote a nephew of mine "all of my braveness is all gone".  Contrary to popular belief among those who know me best I am not strong nor am I brave.  I am downright scared.

Hey POBrien, write me a poem about being a chicken.

We have three full baths in this house.  Sound like a luxury to those of you who have only one?  When it comes to toilet troubles it is a nightmare.  Especially when you have a child like Matthew in the house. 

We have only one daughter so again all of you out there in Xanga land are thinking that we are all sitting in the lap of bathroom luxury.  After all, most of the day there is only Matthew and I here so we have our choice of commodes when we have to use the necessary, right?  Wrong.  One of them is out in the washroom which at this time of year is only a few degrees warmer than the outside temperature.  It is also designated the boys bathroom for a reason.  You could knit a blanket from the spiderwebs that hang in that room and I am not going out there to clean it.  It smells like a freestall and not from it's usage but rather from its user, my husband the farmer who works in a freestall.

The next bathroom in also my laundry room and a pass through to the washroom and the great outdoors so it's temperature at this time of year is only a few degrees warmer than the washroom bathroom.  So, the necessary of choice is the one upstairs next to my bedroom which is no larger than a walkin closet but nice and cozy because all the heat in the house manages to go up and congregate in that room. 

Recently that toilet has begun to have arthritis.  When you flush it runs and runs until you want to shoot it to put it out of its misery.  When it runs in the middle of the night it is enough to cause me to want to murder the flushing offender.  About a week ago I purchased the parts to fix it and placed them in a conspicuous place (right in the middle of the kitchen table) so that I didn't have to nag anyone to fix the toilet. 

You would have thought that Matthew would have jumped at the opportunity to fix his favorite seat in the house.  Especially since he is the one who spends the most time in there, not my daughter.  But not so.  Today, however, even he got fed up with the running and running, especially since I have been calling him whenever I hear it doing it's thing since I don't want to run upstairs to jiggle the lever. 

He just came down drying his hands and declaring it fixed and working better than ever.  Does this mean that he will be in there more often?  or could it mean that I will have a crack at using the warm bathroom for a change?