How is it that each and EVERY Christmas it sneaks up on me. December 1st was just two days ago yes? Poopy shitty.
We've been hosting quite a bit here at Chez Emerson. We had a small, but lovely, Thanksgiving where I managed to bring the meal to the table on time and in a tasty fashion. And this past Saturday we hosted The Pup Family Christmas at our house. I think about 38 people were milling around here.
The Pup Family Christmas usually is held at the church since there are so many of us, especially now since my family is involved and the young uns are pairing up and reproducing at an alarming rate. I'm kidding, there isn't anything alarming about it.
But having it at the church, in the church basement, was never much fun. We would congregate, (like that? I'm really good I know) eat, play the dice game, clean up, leave.
Pup's sister had it at her house a couple of years ago and it was sooooo much better. We decided when it was our turn we would chance it here.
Of course it had to fall on the weekend following my first week on the new job. By Wednesday, when I would come home full of funny stories, excitement about what I was learning, and simple exhaustion because learning is hard - and then fall into bed by 9:00 instead of planning, cleaning, organizing - I was getting a bit worried.
Oh hell, let's not lie. I was getting a big fretful.
No reason to fret.
I was more organized than I realized. I had written the menu and sent out assignments to all involved so by Saturday morning all I had to do was throw the turkey in the oven, put the honey baked in the crock and open some wine. I had implored Lorenzo to come early to help, but she and the BT came and just got to hang out with us and visit. And Lorenzo and I drank some coffee with Bailey's - mmmm!
It went off perfectly. Just how I wanted it. Instead of all of the families breaking into groups by family like we always did at the church, I found groups of people TALKING and LAUGHING. It was wonderful. I kinda wouldn't mind having it every year, but don't tell Pup.
This week we are hosting The Eve Eve (the kidlets and theirs come be with us alone) and Pup is pouting big time because I'm making my world famous spaghetti and meatballs á la Marlena - my momma. I've said before that I am a good cook, not a great cook, but I do have two areas where I am the best. In my head the best.
My meatballs are beyond good. I'm serious. Not like anything you've ever had. Don't argue with me and think, "Oh she hasn't had mine" because you'd be wrong.
Yes, I'm half kidding, but half NOT kidding. For real y'all.
So, my meatballs and then my gravy. I can make gravy. I can make you fall in love with gravy.
The rest that I can cook is good, but these two are superb. It's not bragging when it's the truth. Ha!
But Pup is pouting because he says that's not traditional and I said suck it Pup. I made turkey twice in two months. Enough with the turkey. He said I am vicious. Smooches my Pup - I'll make traditional on Christmas day.