“Where the snow lay round about, deep and crisp and even…” – Good King Wenceslas
Dumplings!
That horrid cold is 99.5% vanquished, my Christmas shopping is 99.5% done, and I chopped off…ha! Only about half of my hair. I was feeling a change somewhat in advance of the new year so off it went, from mid-back to above my shoulders.
And so, I’m back at work and twiddling my thumbs because campus is vacant and covered in a soft, undisturbed cover of white (which is growing thicker by the hour). There is very little do at work…and so much to do at home! I could finish wrapping presents, be baking something, be working out to counteract all said baking. I could be wrapped up in a blanket sipping tea and watching Christmas movies. Yikes…on that note, I could do some of the laundry I’ve been avoiding all week…
There are two Christmas films that were highly important to my childhood that have yet to be made into DVDs, and look likely never to be. They are too old, too somewhat obscure. Luckily at this festive time of year, as I scour the internet to find presents I invariably trip over treasures.
Most of the performances I’ve seen of The Nutcracker have been fairly typical: by area companies of mediocre to good skill, highly traditional, etc. I’d have to throw you over to Scarlett for an in depth critique of the various productions and recommendations (living as she does in New York). But my family has an old VHS sitting quietly on a shelf, taken down but once a year so it lasts longer. This VHS is Nutcracker, the Motion Picture, and it is my definitive adaptation. It gets played from time to time on PBS, but that’s not nearly enough for me.
What’s not to love? Maurice Sendak provided production design! Patricia Barker danced the role of Clara! It’s a stunner of a film and required holiday viewing chez Small Dog. If and when this is finally moved to DVD format, I’ll be the first in line, but in the meantime I found a killer deal for a nearly new copy on amazon.com and practically sprained my fingers in my frenzy to order it. Everyone should own it, in my opinion, but in the meantime if you’re feeling festive and cheap, you can watch it on Hulu.
My other, more obscure little guilty pleasure is an old live action version of Beatrix Potter’s The Tailor of Gloucester (which I personally believe is one of best Christmas stories). It stars Ian Holm as the tailor, with Thora Hird as the Mayor’s housekeeper, and even a young (gangly, awkward, with no hint of his future attractiveness) Jude Law. This is so rare it will run you up to $80 or more…unless you haunt eBay the way I did! I scored it for $2, and except for some shelfwear on the box, the tape is fine.
There’s no hope of this ever being made into a DVD, it was a made-for-TV production back in the 80’s. For lack of another term, it was made cheaply. It’s for young children. It’s old. And it’s completely charming and necessary for my household.
Disclaimer: yes I know magic machines exist that can convert VHS to DVDs and there is a very important reason why I haven’t employed them: I’m lazy. Plus, recall what happened last time I used one?
I have utterly failed! I completely spaced buy goodies to put in J. and my shoes this morning…
What sort of pathetic excuse for an international am I?!
Anyone else out there celebrate St. Nicholas Day? Or have any fun traditions for Advent? Growing up we always put up the family tree on the first Monday in December and left it up until Epiphany. J.’s family always goes to the zoo on Christmas Eve, this will be my first year tagging along. Your turn, my little French hens, share!
Try not to imagine this guy dropping down your chimney, eh?
“Christmas is more than a time of carols, cards and candy; it is a season of dedication and decision.” – William Arthur Ward
If you were to open my Christmas Music folder in iTunes, a quick scroll downward would tell you something else about my holiday tastes: apart from being a “purist” I’m also a traditionalist.
You won’t find Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer, Let it Snow, or White Christmas.
What you will find is The Cambridge Singers, Hereford Cathedral Choir, and a smattering of various monastery choirs.
You will hear Good King Wenceslas, The Cherry Tree Carol, Adeste Fideles, quite a bit of Handel, Angels We Have Heard on High, Quem Pastores Laudevere, and my very favorite The Sussex Carol.
Mum and used to sing Fum Fum Fum, while baking Christmas treats. The whole clan, if in a silly mood, could try the Hallelujah Chorus, blissfully murdering time and tune.
Like so many other good things, though, even Christmas songs can’t be taken too seriously. Because, traditionalist I may be, but dour faced pillar of tradition I am not!
In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a bit of a purist. If you’re going to take something as good as Shakespeare or Austen or Saturday morning cartoons, don’t mess ’em up! Tweak it, adapt it, reinterpret it to your heart’s content, but don’t make something good into something unwatchable or unreadable, or just plain bad. This worldview is doubly stringent around Christmas time when, let’s face it, the world conspires to turn charming tradition into commercialism with fanatical efficiency.
Thus, I have very decided ideas about Christmas entertainment!
Honestly, next to the version with Patrick Stewart, this may be my favorite version of the holiday tale. Lots of humor with the storyline well preserved, what’s not to like? (Well, I may get in trouble for this, but I never liked the random song Scrooge’s fiancee uses to break up with him, but other than that, thumbs up).
And speaking of, A Christmas Carol with Patrick Stewart is fan-bloody-tastic! Jacob Marley’s haunting is nice and spooky, Patrick Stewart is appropriately grouchy and reformed (there is a hilarious moment when he wakes up, realizes he’s not dead, and tries to laugh – something he hasn’t done in decades and has forgotten how to do).
There are lots of versions, but these are the two that make me the happiest. I watch them repeatedly during Advent, usually with a cup of hot chocolate with a candy cane to stir it with.
“Hello, I’m very busy and important.” – Love Actually
Happy Monday, my little partridges. We flew from the East Coast back over the Mississippi and landed smack in 15 inches of snow. Christmas is officially upon us (I refuse to accept that trees and decorations have been up since before the long Labor Day weekend, but now they are acceptable) and I won’t get another break until Christmas Eve.
And, darlings, I have things to do!
Small Dog is in the spirit
J. and I spent all of our fun money to go and visit my family over the break, and now it’s time to buckle down and shop for a couple dozen people. Woof. We ate all of our food before we headed out and now I have to start a regimen of snacks, food, and treats to last an entire month. However, being starving newlyweds (yes, I am still using that title) I have an excellent reason to avoid the expense and time of decorating. I have St. Nicholas Day, Elle’s birthday, and Fairy’s birthday, three Christmas parties (so far), rent and utilities due, all within the first 14 days of December.
Back at work, I have masses of laundry to run to cleaners, files to ship out to media and lawyers, and the winter season of car accident reports to prepare for. Football is over, basketball is in full swing. Oh, and about a million people need background checks run on them.
Additionally, we have the added stress of twiddling our thumbs. J. has started submitted applications to grad schools, so now we get to “hurry up and wait” to hear from them. I hate that game.
“It pays to plan ahead. It wasn’t raining when Noah built the ark.”
– Anon.
An awful thing happens to you post-graduation/marriage/21st birthday: You turn into an adult and you start planning. Which is understandable. It’s likely that your inner circle of friends and family has grown exponentially, you have more varied kinds of relationships (work, fun, etc.) and relationships take effort. Which is a long intro into me saying I’ve started eyeing things for Christmas shopping.
Also! Shabby Apple has given me the best Halloween costume idea ever! Apart from the gorgeous, summery Paris-inspired line that came out recently (which I’m still drooling over), and the Australian inspired swimwear line ( I want this one, but can’t justify because I already bought a swimsuit for this year)…they’ve also come out with a business wear type line. One of which is red, curvy, and the tiniest bit scandalous (here’s another view in black, just so you can see where the idea came to me from).
This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war,
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands,—
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.
– Shakespeare
So! Flew in to Heathrow on the morning of Christmas Eve, met at airport by Dad and Snickers, drove home to Suffolk. Day spent hugging, talking, and trying to stay awake. Christmas Eve feast was superb. Went to bed. Woke up Christmas morning (siblings showed infinite patience and let us sleep in longer than I’d ever imagine they’d be able to) and tore into both presents and breakfast. Rest of day spent in rest and relaxation.
The adventures begin on December 26th, also known as Boxing Day. It’s part of the Christmas holiday in England and most people keep holiday hours on it, but this was the day chosen to go to London to show J. the sights. We checked online and it appeared some things would be open, so off we went.
Mum, left in red. Me, middle in red. Gio, right of me in red. Dad, right of Gio in red. Buddy...in black. Snickers, hidden. J., behind camera.
Never trust the internet. The Tower, which really is the historical base of the city (thanks, William the Bastard/Conquerer) was closed. Luckily Westminster Abbey was open. Some of you may recall my raptures at visiting it two years ago? Well, it was nothing compared to this time. I was so obnoxiously happy to be back in England that I had a hyper litany of sheer enthusiasm trilling through my head as I forced myself to walk somberly through its hallowed naves. The Shakespeare alone was particularly thrilling, I may or may not have muttered the St. Crispin’s Day speech as I meandered past Henry V. Anne of Cleves got a nod and a, “Well done. Better off without him. Much,” Congreve got a cheeky grin, Elizabeth I another critical glance over (still not as pretty as she thought she was).
After Westminster we tried for the Tower but that as you know was a fruitless effort. So we traipsed across the city! I didn’t make it over to Kensington where I lived but I did stare longingly at the High Street Kensington and Gloucester Road stops on the Tube for a while. We walked through Trafalgar Square (scene of many a late night revel with Marie, Elizabeth, and AbFab so long ago), made our way to Leicester Square where, completely out of other ideas, we massacred three hours by watching Avatar. An observation: don’t see this movie in 3D from the second row of the theatre. Your inner ear thanks me. After that we saw Stomp and made our way home at a ridiculous hour of the evening.
Sunday we tried to recuperate a bit and celebrated Buddy’s birthday with a quiet family evening at home. The next day we celebrated it by scampering around the misty wet fields with nearly fifty people, shooting each other with paintballs. I had only been paintballing once before and been shot in the mouth, so I didn’t have a high opinion of the activity (this time I was shot at point-blank range while guarding a little girl, but it was during our mad dash for glory in a game of capture the flag and we were welcomed to the splotched sidelines like heroes). The boys loved it.
No, it's not the camera angle, the house really looks like that.
Tuesday we went to Lavenham, which is without question the most charming country village outside of the Lakes District. I’ve written about it before, but allow me to gush a little bit more! It’s just delightful, the crooked Tudor houses always make me grin like an idiot. I rummaged through my favorite antique store (trying on an Edwardian hat, drooling over Victorian jewelry, and rifling through letter boxes and cupboards) and we ate lunch at The Swan.
Wednesday J. and I basely ditched the family and hopped on the train from Cambridge back down to London so he could actually see things. The train was a necessity because, according to the news, a truck of pigs had gotten into a wreck on the M11 and, far from turning the passengers into bacon, a dozen or so had escaped and were wandering across the highway, grazing on things, and generally causing a bad time of it for the drivers who were backed up for hours waiting for the porcine perils to be rounded up.
We hit the Tower and the British Museum. Going through it was like visiting an old friend. J. seemed to especially love the awful imperialism it represented. “I mean, these guys just showed up and said, ‘I like that wall. I think I’ll take it!'” he said going through the Parthenon exhibit. During the evening we walked from Tottenham Court Road to Oxford Circus so I could get in some much needed shopping before we made our way back to Liverpool St. and hopped back on the train to Cambridge. Then, the next day, back to the States.
I’m going to be honest and admit that as we were driving back from J.’s parents house and I was looking across the valley and snow-covered mountains…I burst into homesick tears. When we got home I was absolutely howling with misery (or lack of sleep, one of the two). “I want to live two hours outside of London!” I sobbed, “I want to live where it’s green even in the winter! I hate the desert! I don’t want to go back to work on Monday! I don’t want to live here for two and a half more years while you finish school! I want my dog!”
J. just hugged me and promised to get me back there someday if he could, and he meant it. I calmed down, went to bed, and woke up feeling alright about leaving England behind for a while. In the meantime, I’ll just be here. Missing it.
“You’re making a mess.”
“I’m spreading holiday goodness!”
– J. and C.
Saturday (which was spent almost entirely at Catriona and Bear’s wedding) ended in a mad dash around town to pick up last minute gifts, travel sized shampoo and toothpaste, wrapping paper, and ribbon. Then I threw on a movie and dove into my holiday vortex!
Artistic rendering of our carpet/my face.
Three hours later, a fine coating of glitter had fallen over everything (the wrapping paper was a gorgeous mash of crimson damask pattern and gold glitter swirls…that might not have been as securely fastened to the paper as could be hoped). My face and hair were coated with sparkling cheer which was starting to snow all over the couch and carpet. I tracked it back into the office at some point. Somehow, it managed to get into the tape (as in inexplicably underneath the various layers) which upped the stickiness factor exponentially.
Admittedly I probably didn’t help matters by skipping about the house dusting off my hands over everything trilling, “La la la la la, la la la LA!” However, out of respect to the dignity of J.’s very masculine suitcase, I stuffed all the presents into a plastic bag before packing everything up tightly.
We fly out to London in two days! We’re set to leave the country via Dallas, the logic of which I originally questioned as it tacks on extra hours to an already excruciating flight, but since that huge storm slapped the east coast, I’m not grudging the extra time.
“Twelve monkey mating, ‘leven donkeys dancing, ten pygmies farming, nine socks a-swimming…FIVE GOLD RINGS!”
– Eddie Izzard
For some reason, our productions did not receive nearly as much acclaim. Can't imagine why...
As promised, here is one of our favorite and probably most quirky/embarassing family traditions. Long ago, my mother made some hand puppets for a group Christmas project. Nothing fancy, just felt oven mitt sorts of things. We used them for years at Christmastime to act out the Nativity Story, without incident or indiscretion until one year, Dad had the brilliant idea to turn on the video recorder.
The footage of this historic event is long departed into the void of computer-crashing-moving-technical-kablooey, but mutual stored memory among the siblings suggests a potential fist-fight behind the stage (sofa) and much arguing and some sacrilegious name-calling.
In subsequent years our quiet family puppet show devolved from its auspicious starting point. It didn’t take too long for it to hit the point of parody.
The next year King Herod breathed like Darth Vadar (complete with asthma inhaler), and the Holy Virgin did lamaze breathing to calm her nerves while Saint Joseph (who was captain of the football team at Nazareth High) stumbled about flexing uselessly. The cap and crown to our we-will-go-to-Hell-for-this performance was the angel Gabriel as played by Yoda as played by Dad. “Annunciating I am! Have a baby you willll…” His voice cracked on the last word and has become holiday tradition ever since to impersonate Dad (as Yoda as Gabriel) choking. Somehow, I misremember, the cow featured prominently leading Gio to exclaim, “It’s a holy cow!” which immediately became our production company name.
A subsequent year featured a lampooning of Monty Python: the taunting Frenchman as the inn-keeper, Mika as the Dreaded Black Beast of Augh, an improvised kick-line (performed by the intrepid puppeteers) and, naturally, the falling cow of catapult fame.
You're destroying cultural and literary icons, you barbarians!
Our most memorable foray into the dark, iredeemable depths of nerdiness was a Lord of the Rings spoof. Our three wisemen (Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli) form the Fellowship of the King. Galabriel annuciates. The shepherds of Rohan ride sheep around energetically. Mary, who looks wearily into the camera and whines and constantly about the terrible burden she is forced to carry alone, is saved when Joseph Gamgee (Gio) declares, “I can’t carry it for you, but I can carry YOU!” and sweeps the other puppet gallantly off. Then there is the memorable presentation of the gifts: gold, myrrh, “and my axe!” There were random interjections of Buddy’s dragon puppet (which does not feature in the usual cast, but he wanted to use it), Gio stole one of Snickers’ lines which nearly brought on an actors’ strike, and most of the outtakes feature us alternatively arguing with one another or dissolving into giggles while Dad vainly demands, “Quiet on the set!”
And so, I’m back at work and twiddling my thumbs because campus is vacant and covered in a soft, undisturbed cover of white (which is growing thicker by the hour). There is very little do at work…and so much to do at home! I could finish wrapping presents, be baking something, be working out to counteract all said baking. I could be wrapped up in a blanket sipping tea and watching Christmas movies. Yikes…on that note, I could do some of the laundry I’ve been avoiding all week…
and practically sprained my fingers in my frenzy to order it. Everyone should own it, in my opinion, but in the meantime if you’re feeling festive and cheap, you can watch it on 
on Amazon.com this year.
with Patrick Stewart is fan-bloody-tastic! Jacob Marley’s haunting is nice and spooky, Patrick Stewart is appropriately grouchy and reformed (there is a hilarious moment when he wakes up, realizes he’s not dead, and tries to laugh – something he hasn’t done in decades and has forgotten how to do).
Small Dog Syndrome 