Sundays were always a big family food day in my home growing up. We’d go to The Petroleum Club after church for brunch, the buffet was magnificent. My parents would truly take advantage of “the day of rest,” we’d eat and socialize for a couple of hours. Dinner on Sundays was a fancy affair, my grandmother was always invited. Mom would make a special dessert like cream puffs or her “ladyfingers” icebox cake (tiramisu), Dad would whip something up like lamb chops with mashed potatoes and spinach. We’d watch Grandma’s favorite show, Lawrence Welk and then head to bed.

We had special birthday and holiday menus and Mom would fry chicken with scalloped potatoes or spend the day making tamales but Super Bowl food was never a part of the rotation.

It wasn’t until Super Bowl XII in 1978 that I understood the full extent of the joy of a Super Bowl party and its food. We were living in Denver and The Denver Broncos played The Dallas Cowboys. I was nine months pregnant with my second child on January 15, 1978 when the game was played. The Super Bowl party’s menu included “hot wings,” seven layer dip, “pigs in a Blanket,” and potato skins.

As a baby gift, I had been given an “Orange Crush” Broncos, tiny, track suit to match the team jerseys that all the party goers were wearing. Everything at the party was orange and blue, the tablecloth, plates, and napkins. It was a very festive celebration, until the Broncos started losing. A few of the guests actually left at halftime, walking out the door shaking their heads. The final score was Cowboys 27, Broncos 19.

Super Bowl XIII between The Cowboys and The Steelers was played on January 21, 1979, and I was living in Coronado, California. My Mom was visiting and we spent the day at The San Diego Zoo. We ordered dumplings and spare ribs for dinner from The Chu Dynasty, our local Chinese restaurant and didn’t watch the game. The Army/Navy game was the most important football game in my neighborhood then. We were mostly Navy wives whose husbands were deployed on one of the three aircraft carriers down the block from our houses.

Super Bowl games were televised in Hawaii in the morning. TV’s were rolled out onto lanai’s and the party goers would stand around grills drinking beer while watching the game. The potluck buffet included; Lumpia, macaroni salad, seven-layer dip, fried wings, Managua, kimchi, and burgers on the grill. There was a sea of different jerseys, everyone was from somewhere else and Hawaii didn’t have a pro football team. After the game, we’d nap and head to the nearest swimming pool or the beach.

Super Bowl Sunday became an important celebration when I married my husband, Matt. Roger Staubach was John General’s lab partner at The Naval Academy and so we were all Dallas Cowboys fans. The General family was serious about their Super Bowl parties; one year, they hosted the game at the Avalon Theater, the best party ever. Other years we watched at John’s house, a deconsecrated church (All Saints) on Longwoods Road that he had renovated. The great room was perfect for parties. John’s Mom, Peggy would always make her clam dip with Ruffles potato chips. There were submarine sandwiches, seven layer dip, crab dip, pizza and of course, wings. There was always some good-natured betting and some shouting at the TV.

For the past seven years, Matt and I have been eating a plant-based diet, so our “hot wings” were actually cauliflower. Seven layer dip was always an option also. We are planning a quiet night this year, I’m really looking forward to the commercials.

In a cab in London years ago, we were heading to Jamie Oliver’s restaurant for dinner. My ever charming husband struck up a conversation with the cabdriver about how excited we were to be eating there. The “cabbie” made it clear that he wasn’t a fan of Jamie Oliver and when asked for recommendations for his thoughts on the best food in London, he told us that his favorite food was Chinese. Believing that cabdrivers know best, we cancelled our dinner reservations and headed to Chinatown. The restaurant was tiny, its storefront on a narrow, cobblestone road. The decor was typical with bright, vivid colors dominating the color scheme, red dragons and lanterns festooning the ceiling, scrolls and super sized lucky charms on the walls. The Fortune Cat or “Maneki Neko” with its waving paw was placed at the cash register area to attract good fortune and luck to the owners. It turned out that the cabdriver was right, this was definitely the best Chinese food ever, especially the Turnip Cakes.

Turnip Cakes “Lo Bak Go” are traditionally eaten during Chinese New Year when superstitions abound. Turnip cakes actually contain radishes not turnips but they are considered good luck to eat during the New Year. Luckily, turnip cakes are found at dim sum restaurants all year round. You won’t be disappointed If you find turnip cakes on the menu.

At the start of the twentieth century, the first area in London known as Chinatown was located in the East End. The Chinese population concentrated in that area setting up businesses to cater to the Chinese sailors. The area was damaged by aerial bombing during the Blitz in the Second World War. The present Chinatown off Shaftesbury Avenue was established in the 1970’s.

My beloved aunt, Rosemary, a New Yorker, having jury duty for a month, spent her lunch break sampling most of the Chinese restaurants in Chinatown in Manhattan. Chinatown is a neighborhood in Lower Manhattan that is home to the highest concentration of Chinese people in the Western Hemisphere, it is also one of the oldest Chinese ethnic enclaves. Doyers Street, a one block stretch in Chinatown, established in the 1870’s, is one of the most historically rich streets in New York City.

On one of our visits to New York City, we spent an afternoon at my Aunt’s number one restaurant choice, eating dim sum. Looking around the restaurant, we noticed that our fellow diners weren’t tourists but Chinese businessmen and families, always a good sign that the food will be extraordinary. We were familiar with many of the bite-sized delights (dim sum translates to “touch of the heart”) but “threw caution to the wind” and sampled many unknown dumplings and buns. Our favorites, of course were the steamed pork buns, “Bao Buns”.

Chinatown in San Francisco is the oldest in North America, founded in 1849 during the Gold Rush. It became a safe haven to the first 300 Chinese immigrants who were welcomed by San Francisco’s first mayor, Mayor John Geary. The neighborhood was named “Chinatown” by the press. By 1870, there were 2,000 Chinese laundries in Chinatown. My husband, Matt and I spent an afternoon in Chinatown when visiting his Mom years ago. After passing under the iconic Dragon’s gate, we walked down a bustling maze of streets and alleys brimming with dim sum and traditional food. We really enjoyed the herbalist shops, bakeries, and the ornate temples. We bought a beautiful bamboo wind chime that we placed on our backyard Crepe Myrtle tree. That wind chime with its, mild clacking hung in that tree for twenty years, losing its reeds one at a time.

Chinatown’s location isn’t an accident, near Honolulu’s busy trading port, shops were established by Chinese sugar cane workers who had fulfilled their contracts. Chinatown is adjacent to downtown Honolulu’s business district with a rich history and multicultural heritage.

My daughter, Jenny’s Kindergarten class visited Chinatown just before the Chinese New Year when we were living in Hawaii. The field trip was one of the most memorable that I’ve ever been on. When walking down the street we stopped at a fresh food market, the children were fascinated and appalled at the row of pigs’ heads holding a prominent place in the display window. We learned that the pig’s head (Lechon Ulo) is actually a delicacy that when roasted, its meat is very tender and the skin is a crispy treat. There were many giggles from the kids when our tour guide told us that the pig’s head must be shaved before cooking. Whole steamed fish symbolizes prosperity, long noodles represent long life, sweet rice balls signify family reunion, and chicken for good luck, all foods that are eaten during the Lunar New Year. Dumplings, everyone’s favorite, are considered “pockets of prosperity.”

We learned the significance of the ornate arch at the entrance to most Chinatowns. A Paifang or Pailou is a traditional style of Chinese architecture often used in gateway structures. The arch serves as a symbolic gateway, representing the entrance to the community. The archway may be built to commemorate a sister city relationship between a Chinese city and the city where Chinatown is located.

The herbalist’s shop was my favorite with its earthy aroma, as if we had walked into a forest of dehydrated trees. Along every wall were tiny drawers and neatly arranged shelves of jars, all labeled in red script. With over 4,000 remedies available, I regret not taking the fifteen minutes to visit the Acupuncturist on site to have a special tea made.

After our tour, which included a small parade with a dragon, we enjoyed a snack of almond cookies which symbolize coins and bring good luck.

Honolulu was a great place for Chinese food, clay roasted duck, dim sum, whole fish, and noodles were always available and cooked to perfection. Looking back, I realize how lucky I have been to enjoy such amazing food in so many great cities.

Wishing everyone a happy and prosperous Lunar New Year.

I was newly pregnant with my fourth child the summer that the chicken pox was running rampant in my neighborhood. August is one of the windiest months on the island of Oahu in Hawaii with persistent trade winds blowing from the northeast. The trade winds came to a “dead halt” the week that my two youngest children got the rash. We lived on Pearl Harbor and our windows were louvered, perfect to catch the island breezes, not an air conditioner in sight. It was a tortuous few days without sleep, in the unrelenting heat, monitoring the scratching of hundreds of blisters. My daughter, Jenny got the rash first, then my son, Stuart. Jenny’s case was mild and she was the perfect patient at six years old. Stuie’s rash was everywhere on his little four year old body, except his eyes. I would slather him in Calamine lotion after an oatmeal bath but the itchiness was unbearable for him. He would even scratch when he was asleep. In a desperate phone call for help, my mom remembered an “old wives tale” that recommended covering a child’s hands with white cotton socks to make it difficult to scratch, avoiding infection, of course he hated that and pulled them off. The looming fear was that too much scratching would lead to impetigo. Impetigo was very common in children living in Hawaii due to its contagiousness, it required the dreaded antibiotic ointment, lots of band aids, and extended quarantine time. Other Moms in the neighborhood would send their children over to “visit” for a few minutes, exposing them to the chicken pox, just to “get it over with.” Somehow, my eldest didn’t catch the chicken pox that summer, he continued to “live his best life,” swimming, riding his bike, and playing with his many friends.

I was surprised that I didn’t “bounce back” after the stress that days of around the clock nursing care placed on my body, then
“morning sickness” that lasted all day, reared its ugly head. Just days after everyone recovered from the Chicken Pox, I was able to fix breakfast and take my children to school in the morning, but I would come home and collapse on the couch. I was so sick that I would just float in the pool in the mornings during my daily lap swim. The only food I could eat all day was a Jack in the Box’s Swiss Mushroom Burger. By the time dinner arrived I was starving but I lacked the energy to prepare anything for my family so we ate out most nights. The nightly restaurant choice was mainly based on the dessert menu, I had also developed an affection/addiction for Black Forest Cake.

Despite eating out every night, restaurants were considered a special treat and “Shirley Temples” were ordered for my kids, whose usual drink options were water, juice and milk. My youngest child, Stuie would ask for extra maraschino cherries on top. After having drunk his first “Shirley Temple” and before our entrees arrived, Stuie was up and running circles around the table. To avoid disturbing other diners, I would escort Stuie outside to “run it off.” After tracking this behavior for a couple of days, I concluded that the maraschino cherries and the grenadine in the drink had to be the culprit. My search led to a Los Angeles Times article dated January 24,1985 about a group filing suit over Federal inaction on food dyes. The article reported that “the fate of maraschino cherries’ brilliant red color hangs precariously by a thin stem.” The article goes on to say; “There are serious doubts about the safety of the food dye that transforms dull-yellow cherries into artificially bright scarlet garnishes for everything from cocktails to cakes.” The Public Citizens Health Research Group filed a suit against the federal government to force a ban on the color additive known as FD&C; Red No. 3, a chemical found to produce thyroid tumors in laboratory animals.

There wasn’t standard medical testing for food dye allergies but my “Mom’s intuition” knew that Stuie should never have maraschino cherries ever again. It turns out that one of Stuie’s favorite candy, Skittles, was also filled with food dyes. To avoid any more reactions, I did my best to avoid red dyes by reading labels at the grocery store.

One evening, when Stuie was twelve, he complained of a headache, we tried the usual remedies, quiet, dark room, and a cool cloth on his forehead. He wasn’t feverish, achy or nauseous so I ruled out the flu. Later in the evening, Stuie spiked a very high fever, he went from 98.6 to 104 in a matter of minutes. We immediately drove to the emergency room. After triage, Stuie was given an IV although he wasn’t dehydrated. The doctor on duty suspected a “Thyroid Storm” and Stuie was admitted to the hospital’s intensive care unit. He was placed on a cooling pad and with the fluids, the goal was to reduce his fever. Stuie bounced back quickly and his hospital stay was short.

A Thyroid Storm is a rare, life threatening condition that generally happens to people over the age of forty. Approximately five to seven people out of a million experience thyroid storms. When you are experiencing a thyroid storm, the large levels of thyroid hormones in your body launches your metabolism into high speed which is dangerous and life-threatening. When there’s intense metabolic activity, your body needs more oxygen. To meet your body’s needs, your heart beats very fast (tachycardia), which can cause heart failure.

Stuie was monitored by his pediatrician for a while after his thyroid storm but eventually the Dr. concluded that it was a one time occurrence. Stuie returned to his active childhood and didn’t have any other thyroid issues. After reading about red dye and the thyroid, I do wonder if those maraschino cherries and Skittles were to blame for Stuie’s thyroid storm. I guess I’m grateful that the side effects of red dye are finally being taken seriously all these years later.

January is National Soup Month, a time to celebrate this beloved comfort food. January was designated National Soup Month by Campbell’s Soup Company in 1984. The best selling soup in the United States is chicken noodle, with tomato as a close second, clam chowder, potato, and minestrone are third, fourth, and fifth. Tomato was the first soup that Campbell’s produced in 1897, the perfect combination with a grilled cheese sandwich. Campbell’s invented condensed soup, introducing it to the world, also in the year 1897.

According to AARP, women are twice as likely to order soup for lunch than men. Americans eat more than ten billion bowls of soup each year. The earliest archeological evidence of soup dates back to 6000 BC and it was hippopotamus soup.

The American Medical Association considers soup a valuable food source because it keeps you full and hydrated in the winter months when it might be harder to get your daily water intake, soup basically waters your body. It also signals your brain that you are full and satisfied. Many ingredients in soup help your body fight off colds and flu, think garlic and other healing herbs in a hearty broth. The liquid consistency can stimulate your digestive tract, the fiber in soups can help keep your digestive system healthy. Soups warm your stomach and can clear nasal passages. Some soups, like tomato are rich in antioxidants, which can help neutralize harmful cell damaging molecules.

My Dad made soup every Saturday beginning in the fall. He had a soup pot that was so big that we would climb in while playing hide and seek. He would stew whole chickens with herbs and veggies all day long. Dad would then strain the bone broth and freeze huge batches for soup making. The roux came next, for the cream soups, pounds of butter, cream, white pepper, and flour. The word bisque was used by my Mom to describe my Dad’s fish soups with their velvety texture, wine, and cream. Big chunks of chicken, carrots, onions, celery, garlic, and peas with thick pasta were the elements in his chicken noodle soup. After visiting a friend’s house for lunch, I learned about Campbell’s soup and would beg my Mom to buy Chicken and Stars soup at the grocery store. Little did I know then that my Dad’s soups were actual health powerhouses with the amount of garlic and onions in the stock. The stewed chickens provided the nine essential amino acids, the building blocks of protein needed in the human diet, and the vitamins and minerals for bone health and brain function.

Beyond its health benefits, my Dad’s soup was an act of love, a symbol of connection, prepared with intention. Preparing soup was like a meditation for my Dad, the process of selecting the recipe, combining elements of the earth, tending to the pot, all to create something nourishing. Sharing that soup fostered a sense of togetherness.

My Mom did indulge my desire for the canned chicken and stars soup. I thought it was delicious until I had a bowl of the homemade, beautiful, and rich soup created by my Dad. The Campbell’s soup’s veggies were tiny, the chicken in small cubes, no visible herbs such as basil, rosemary, or sage, just a salty taste.

In the fall of my first year here (1987) on the Eastern Shore, I began to notice signs at local churches advertising “Soup Day.” I thought “soup day” was a charitable activity for those less fortunate, until I saw the “soup line” of fashionably dressed professionals. I learned that homemade soup made by church volunteers for “soup day” was a special monthly offering that citizens looked forward to, marked on calendars. Churches carefully guarded their recipes, each known for their “special” soup. It was at “soup day” that I had my first dry Lima bean soup, an absolute favorite. We could “carry out” the soup or eat at long tables in the church’s fellowship hall. After COVID, there are very few “soup days” here in Cambridge, I miss it.

Soup making isn’t easy but it is definitely worth it. Between shoveling the walk and bingeing Netflix during last week’s snowstorm, I made a pot of Dry Lima bean soup. I was given the recipe by the head of the soup making team at Christ Episcopal Church, years ago when I volunteered at “soup day.” It wasn’t great, definitely not the soup that I had remembered, my chickens enjoyed it though. I’ll keep making soup, it feeds my soul, and my kitchen smells amazing.

The ancient 500 foot rock formations at Vedauwoo recreation area were created by wind, ice, and water. Vedauwoo (an Arapahoe word meaning “land of earthborn spirits”) is about a ten minute drive from the University of Wyoming in Laramie and a favorite stargazing spot. The enormous granite rocks are at an altitude of 8,200 feet, the views from these formations are breathtaking. Overlooking dense pine trees directly below and endless plains under the wide open Wyoming skies, you can see up to seventy miles south. It is a place of profound beauty.

A car was important at the University of Wyoming for weekend trips to ski areas, John Denver concerts in Colorado, and nearby hiking spots. My Mom gave me the family station wagon, a 1971 copper colored Mercury Marquis, an eight passenger behemoth. No roof ski rack was needed, two rows of seats down for skis and poles with plenty of room for passengers. That car was a like an armored tank that could comfortably reach speeds over ninety miles an hour on Wyoming’s pristine, unpopulated highways.

My friends and I would make plans for the weekend while eating dinner in our dorm’s cafeteria. A favorite Friday destination was Vedauwoo, to watch the sun setting. The sky in Wyoming is so big, especially at Vedauwoo, that we felt that we could reach out and touch the universe. Winter snow was rarely a problem, the Mercury had studded snow tires, but most of the snow would blow down to Colorado anyway. We’d park, climb a lower rock and watch the sun become a blazing ball of fire against the purple sky. It wasn’t long after sunset that the stars came out, it was like fireworks on the Fourth of July, we’d ooh and ahhh at every new constellation’s appearance. The piece de resistance was the Milky Way, it truly looked like the Greek myth where the Goddess Hera had sprayed milk across the sky.

While living in Coronado, California, on clear nights in the winter, my small children and I would walk across “the Strand” to catch the sunset. We’d climb to the top of a sand dune and watch the huge orange disk plop into the ocean. Afterwards, we’d lazily slide down the dune, bathed in nautical twilight, the afterglow of the sun below the horizon providing enough golden light to see our way home. The lights from the Naval Amphibious Base would greet us after navigating the darkened beach surroundings.

Waikiki was the perfect spot for sunsets, walking on the beach, the silhouette of Diamond Head in the distance made the energy of the sun setting magical. Driving over the Malkus bridge while the sun sets here in Cambridge is always a gift. The skyline here is different than Wyoming, California, and Hawaii but the sun setting over the Choptank River gives the same vibrant colors and fills my mind with dreams of the stars. My husband and I have spent many beautiful nights star gazing from the hot tub on our deck. Matt learned the constellations as a child from his Navy pilot Dad. We are always thrilled when the stars are clearly visible, but the best was the night a skein (flying) of snow geese flew over with the Big and Little Dippers as a backdrop.

I have been lucky to live my life with the gifts of the sky, nature’s treasures. Every sunset is a memory that made an impact on me, a powerful symbol of closure and renewal. Watching that golden orb gracefully bid farewell to the day allowed me to be fully present in that moment. Years ago, sitting on that dune in Coronado, I didn’t know that I was “grounding” with the earth. The calming effects that the combination of the sand, the ocean, and the sunset had on my children and me were profound, a quiet moment of wonder and joy.

This first week of the New Year I learned a new term, “glimmer.” “Glimmers” are those moments in the day that make you feel joy, peace, happiness, or gratitude. Once you are aware of “glimmers” they will appear more and more. I’m now on the look out for “glimmers.” The surprise snow on Friday evening was a glimmer, I love snow, especially while sitting in our hot tub.

“Onward and Upward,” was an idiom used often by my Dad, usually when something challenging had befallen our family. According to thefreedictionary.com, “onward and upward” is an expression that is defined as “something you say in order to encourage someone to forget an unpleasant experience or failure and to think about the future instead.” “Onward and Upward,” coined by C.S. Lewis in book five of the Narnia series is believed to be the adoption of a position that requires optimism, empathy, and curiosity.

To optimists, the future is believed to always be the place at which, when we arrive, everything will be alright. The future may be a quest to define conditions and circumstances in which we want to happily live forever. Adoption of “onward and upward,” spurs us to ask, “what can I do now to improve my situation?” Optimists evaluate conditions that are intense, emotional, or disappointing as something you are passing through, rather than something that is chronic or never ending. In other words, optimists see the positive side of things. They expect things to turn out well. According to Martin Seligman in his book, Learned Optimism, to adopt optimism for the long term, one must possess and display empathy.

Empathy is the ability to choose to respond rather than react, to understand and share the feelings of others. “How would I feel if this was happening to me? and What can I do to help?” are examples of how empathetic people focus on other people. When we concentrate on how others interpret a situation, it sheds light on the best approach to help the adoption of, “onward and upward.”

Jeff Naylor, CEO of SIRF Roundtables states that an optimistic outlook promotes curiosity, offering a positive approach to uncertainty, which is empowering in facing the future. Optimism and curiosity are necessary bedfellows for bringing about change. Optimism promotes the desired solutions and curiosity creates the foundation for those solutions. Optimists tend to have naturally curious minds, are open to learning, embrace new perspectives, and welcome novel ideas.

Iyanla Vanzant, author of Peace from Broken Pieces, suggests living well today, in this exact moment. We need to be joyful, peaceful, and grateful for what we have and what we are doing right now. When we do things that keep us feeling alive and hopeful, we learn to look forward to a brighter and better future. Vanzant appreciates our fear of the unknown, she recommends acknowledging that fear, accepting it, and walking through it with confidence.

In setting intentions for 2025, there’s a trend where you choose a word or theme to sum up what you want the next twelve months to hold. In contrast to a resolution, a one-word theme leaves room for creativity, whimsy, and fun. Compared to a resolution, a one-word theme is easier to keep uppermost in your mind so it can guide your actions through the year. To pick your own theme, pay attention to a word or concept that resonates with you. Your word might be a noun, an adjective, or a verb. There aren’t any rules when choosing as long as the word is meaningful to you.

With a nod to my Dad, I have chosen “onward and upward’ as my theme for 2025, continuing to move forward, rather than dwelling on negative experiences.

Yule, also known as Winter Solstice, is a traditional festival celebrated by many cultures, particularly those with Pagan or Germanic roots. It marks the longest night and shortest day of the year, typically around December 21st of 22nd in the Northern Hemisphere. Yule has both modern and historical significance, blending ancient traditions with contemporary practices. Historically, Yule is about the battle between darkness and light.

Celebrations honor the rebirth of the sun. Evergreen trees, holly, ivy, and mistletoe symbolize birth and renewal. These plants are still used to decorate homes during the Yule season. The return of the sun symbolizes hope, renewal, and the triumph of light over darkness. Yule emphasizes the cyclical nature of life and the interconnection between humans and the Earth. Yule is celebrated worldwide by diverse communities, as a part of their religious practice or as a way to connect with nature and the rhythms of the Earth.

The other key symbols of Yule include bells, which ward off evil spirits and welcome positive energies, and reindeer, sacred animals in Pagan mythology that symbolize strength and survival.

Wyoming History is taught in the fourth grade, it was that year that I learned that reindeer do exist, they migrate to Wyoming from Canada in search of food and habitat. These reindeer, often called Caribou travel up to 840 miles between seasonal ranges, which is a record for long distance migration in North America. Reindeer have incredible endurance due to their large hearts, which carry them further and in harsher environments than any other land animal. They can sprint up to fifty miles per hour and travel twenty miles per hour over long distances. A newborn reindeer is on its feet in minutes and can run as fast as an Olympic sprinter, only a half hour after birth.

Reindeer were a big part of our science curriculum the last week of school before the holiday break. We learned that in summer, reindeer eat a particular red and white mushroom called Amanita Muscaria that grows beneath cedar and birch trees. The Amanita Muscaria is the iconic toadstool portrayed in the Mario video games that Mario eats to “power-up.” This mushroom is poisonous to humans but not deadly. In winter, reindeer feed on Lichen, also called reindeer moss.

Reindeer are the only deer species to be covered in hair from their hooves to their noses. The hair on their nose helps to warm incoming cold air before it enters their lungs. Reindeer have a great sense of smell which helps in food foraging and locating danger.

There is aerial footage of a “reindeer cyclone” on YouTube that shows a reindeer stampede, a defense strategy to confuse predators. The herd of reindeer running counter clockwise protects the does and fawns who run in the middle of the cyclone, making it almost impossible to target an individual.

Reindeer are the only deer species to be widely domesticated, they are used as draft animals to pull heavy loads.

Santa’s reindeer were first mentioned in 1821 when New York printer William Gilley published a sixteen page booklet for children titled, “A New Year’s Present to the Little Ones from Five to twelve.” Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer was created by Robert L. May in 1939 as a booklet for Montgomery Ward. The retailer had been buying and giving children little booklets each year and decided that creating their own story was more cost effective. Historians believe that Robert L. May knew about reindeer eating Amanita Muscaria and that gave him the idea for Rudolph’s red nose. All reindeer noses actually are a little red due to densely packed blood vessels, which helps them survive some of the harshest conditions on earth. Rudolph is loved by all, he is a unique individual, who despite the ridicule and isolation in the beginning of the story, his red nose helped him save Christmas. Rudolph’s story embodies the American dream for every child, the ability to express and receive approval for his or her individuality and special qualities.

The Wyoming Game and Fish Department has prohibited anyone from bringing reindeer into the state without a permit. Although he hasn’t been caught in the act, the NORAD Santa tracker has documented Kringle and his team of reindeer flying over the Cowboy State every year for nearly six decades. Santa Claus is known across the world as Father Christmas, St. Nicholas, and Kris Kringle. If the authorities in Wyoming catch up with him, he might need another alias.

Two of the third floor bedrooms in my house have slowly become the “land that time forgot,” they are the dumping spot (storage) for seasonal items, unwanted toys, clothes, furniture, and family keepsakes. If my daughter, Cece needs an item for a play that she is doing “props” or costumes for, we trudge up to the third floor to have a look. The third floor is an adventure for my grandchildren, they love the thrill of the search. Toys and antique beds with puffy comforters are very inviting.

I’ve read that today’s young adults don’t want “hand me down” antiques such as silver and china. Polishing silver is a huge drag and is the main reason that my silver collection resides in “pacific” cloth bags on shelves in a room on my third floor. My grandfather was a collector of unusual silver pieces such as egg warmers that are egg shaped, spoons for everything under the sun, and muffineers, which are powdered sugar shakers. My vitrine (glass display table) held a tiny silver tea service, silver thimbles, and silver baby rattles that are definitely not safe with tiny bells and whistles jingling.

One shelf on the third-floor houses monogrammed linen tablecloths and napkins for formal dinners and casual Bridge Club luncheons. These are stiffly resting in their box, corners still secured with safety pinned identification tags from the dry cleaner. The students at my school are performing a Nativity Play this week and one in a set of formal dinner napkins was perfect for Baby Jesus’ swaddling clothes, the safety pin perfectly holding it all together.

Cece’s trunk from high school rests under a sleeping bag and a stack of baskets. With great anticipation last fall, we opened the trunk in search of Cece’s collection of Playbills. Cece planned to place each Playbill under the glass on the conference room table at the Factory. That trunk, with the sides artfully decoupaged, contains treasures that document her teenage trials and tribulations. A pink telephone-shaped address book and a leather-bound book of Shakespeare’s plays were lying on top. Cece was thrilled to find her twenty-year-old knee-high stiletto boots, which were still in perfect shape. Those boots became part of Cece’s costume as Tapehead in the final installment of playwright Casey Rauch’s StageFright. The playbills and boots went to The Factory, and the telephone-shaped address book was safely commandeered by seven-year-old Winnie, who found the book silly but useful to keep her own records.

During a phone call last week, my sister announced that she had made the decision to sell her house. Intending to move from a five-bedroom house to a one-bedroom apartment, she had begun de-cluttering by hiring a service to box up items that she hadn’t used for years and donate them to people in need. She asked my opinion about her silver collection, she no longer entertains formally and her children aren’t interested. After much discussion, we agreed that finding a buyer for her antique silver was the best option. After all, these are just “things” despite the years of memories that are held in each piece.

Unfortunately, last week there was a fire in the studio directly above the main home of The Factory in the Brookletts Building. Luckily, the building had a sprinkler system so everyone is safe and the building is intact but the damage from the ash infused water raining through the ceiling is devastating. Cece has been allowed to go in to retrieve her computer and cameras. The Factory housed her personal work office, was a rehearsal space, and contained every costume that Marie U’Ren then Kate Levy carefully curated for many years. There is a layer of soot on everything in The Factory, but the hope is that some articles may be salvageable. It is my goal that those of us who appreciate the cultural and historical value of these costumes and props will come together and support Cece and her team at @thefactoryartsproject for the future of the arts.

If you’ve ever seen a play at The Avalon Theater in Easton, you’ve seen the many brilliant, one of a kind pieces that bring a play to life, made by Artist, Maggii Sarfaty. The loss of these works of art are a brutal blow to the theater community on The Eastern Shore. Please visit @maggisarfatyfineart for a glimpse of Maggi’s genius.

Heirlooms and antiques hold immense value, not only for their monetary value but also for the rich history and emotional significance they carry. These cherished items often serve as tangible connections to our past, preserving family traditions, memories, and stories across generations. Antiques reflect the craftsmanship, design, and culture of their time, offering a glimpse into history that modern reproductions cannot replicate. Keepsakes and heirlooms can foster a sense of identity and belonging, as they are often saturated with personal meaning. Antiques also contribute to sustainability by promoting the reuse of high quality, enduring items making them meaningful and timeless.

Holiday traditions around the world highlight the diversity of human cultures. I recently read an article about the tradition in Iceland of giving books as gifts on Christmas Eve. Families put on their new pajamas and head to bed early to read their new books. I intend to include this as a new tradition with my family this year.

I’ve continued many of my family’s Christmas traditions every year. My Mom made an Advent calendar that we add candy canes to and hang every December first. Many of the ornaments on our tree were handmade by my children or were collected on family vacations. Decorating the tree is always a delightful walk “down memory lane.”

The “Christmas pickle” was an addition years ago and is a fun hiding game for everyone, especially the first person to find it, they are supposed to receive a bonus gift and have good luck throughout the year.

Many years ago, a family friend gave us a spider tree ornament and shared the beautiful story from a Polish tradition. Spiders, according to legend, wove a blanket for Baby Jesus. In Poland, spiders are thought to be symbols of goodness and prosperity. The last year of buying a freshly cut Christmas tree, my husband was sitting near the tree and just happened to see movement out of the corner of his eye. That movement was the hatching of thousands of tiny baby spiders. We told ourselves that the hatchlings were good luck for the holiday season but we felt bad about disturbing the spiders’ habitat in winter and bought an artificial tree the next year.

We have always had several mushroom ornaments on our tree through the years. I have collected so many that the mushrooms now have their own little tree. Without knowing it while collecting, I learned that mushrooms are also considered good luck in the German culture. Found in forests, mushrooms are associated with the reverence of nature and beauty. Finding a mushroom in a forest is like finding a lucky penny-good fortune is surely right around the corner.

During one visit to London during Thanksgiving years ago, we were introduced to the greeting, “Happy Christmas.” While people don’t know exactly how this phrase started in England, people do know that King George V said it in 1932 during his first royal Christmas radio message.

While Christmas isn’t a traditional holiday in Japan, it has become a widely celebrated occasion. One unique tradition is enjoying a meal from Kentucky Fried Chicken. Thanks to an advertising campaign in the 1970’s, millions of Japanese families enjoy KFC for their Christmas feast, sometimes ordering weeks in advance. Not only is Colonel Sanders now synonymous with Santa Claus, but KFC in Japan now sells Christmas-themed “party barrels” to celebrate the day. The barrels include salad, cake, and lots of fried chicken.

The Christmas “cracker” has been a part of my Christmas Eve dinner for as long as I can remember. The brightly wrapped tube which contains a paper crown, a joke, and a prize is a festive table decoration. The crackers make a popping sound when opened. The tradition of wearing festive hats at parties is believed to date back to Roman times. Tom Smith, a bon-bon maker in London invented the “cracker” in 1847 out of necessity during a slump in candy sales. A Christmas cracker is the subject of one of Norman Rockwell’s iconic cover art for The Saturday Evening Post in 1919.

The holiday season is time of joy, connection, and celebration across the globe. While Christmas is one of the most widely recognized holidays, different cultures infuse this time of year with unique customs and traditions. While rooted in the story of Christ’s birth, Christmas traditions have evolved to include customs that blend religious, cultural, and local influences.

“ Black Friday” has evolved in meaning and impact over the years, initially referring to calamitous days. The most significant “Black Friday” to date was in 1869 when two financiers attempted to corner the gold market. Fortunes were made and lost on that day.

In 1951, “Black Friday” referred to the practice of workers calling in sick the day after Thanksgiving, in order to have a four day weekend.

Black Friday is currently the first Friday after Thanksgiving and is considered the first and busiest shopping day of the season. The term “ Black Friday” was coined in the 1980’s and refers to the point where retailers begin to make a profit; “in the black.” Black Friday uses promotional sales to draw large crowds and this year, Black Friday has been observed for a couple of weeks.

According to Encyclopedia Britannica, “Black Friday” was a phrase used by police officers in Philadelphia to describe the chaos that resulted when large numbers of suburban tourists came into the city to begin their holiday shopping. The huge crowds created a headache for the police, who worked longer shifts than usual as they dealt with traffic jams, accidents, and shoplifting.

Thanksgiving’s relationship with Christmas shopping led to controversy in the 1930’s. Stores were hesitant to advertise Christmas sales before Thanksgiving but needed a longer shopping season. In 1939, President Franklin D. Roosevelt issued a proclamation declaring the third Thursday of November as Thanksgiving. FDR believed that changing the date would boost the economy by creating an extra seven days of Christmas shopping. This date change led to protest by the mayor of Atlantic City who coined the term “Franksgiving.” In 1941, FDR and Congress moved Thanksgiving back to the fourth Thursday of November.

The New York Times recent survey about “Black Friday” showed that the majority of readers did not intend to shop on the day. Many readers lamented that it no longer felt like a unique event because sales continue throughout the year. Readers also suggested supporting small, local businesses rather than big-box retailers.

I must admit that I did shop online on “Black Friday,” I have had my eye on a flannel duvet cover that was very pricey. The sale price was worth the wait, I got it for 50% off.

When my children were little, I loved shopping, especially for their Christmas stockings. I would keep a list and buy any items throughout the year that were on that list. I have never been a fan of crowded malls. Eventually, the best gifts were the Christmas holiday spent together.

My parents would shop in Denver or New York City for Christmas. Our gifts from FAO Schwartz were incredible, one year we received child sized Lincoln Logs so we could construct our own cabin. Another year it was a skating rink in our backyard. I have photos of my brothers the year they received a child sized Gemini space capsule with astronaut costumes. Pogo sticks and stilts and other sports equipment were included as we got older. I remember my first desk and the phonograph with the Glen Campbell album that I was given in fourth grade. Our family photo albums illustrate the years of Barbie’s, Chatty Cathy dolls, and GIJoes.

We had a big storeroom in our basement that housed some of our holiday decorations and National Geographic magazines. One year, my older brother was “investigating” and found a treasure trove of toys hidden amongst the boxes in that store room. My brother decided to “share the wealth” and in doing so, ruined the Christmas morning surprise for me. Thankfully, the magic did return the next year.

---