Welcome To 2026 And A Bunch Of Stuff

The Christmas tree is taken down and all holiday decor is stowed away. The only leftovers that remain reside in the freezer:  a handful of cookies I sneaked from the tray of cookies my sister Susan sent over and about a half-pound of glazed, spiral-sliced ham. I gave away most of the Christmas toffee I made (that stuff is dangerous to keep anywhere in the house). The new year is here, and...so am I.

*I generally don't make New Year's Resolutions or pick a Word For The Year or anything like that. I have always said that I am on a Continuous Journey Of Self-Improvement, so every day I try to be mindful of opportunities to move through this life with a little more ease and grace. Over the years, I have adopted many mantras, for lack of a better word, to do just that. For instance:

1. Kindness is my default.

2. If it will only take 2 minutes or less, just do it.

3. Touch something only once and act on it immediately.

4. Let it go.

As I have for the past 50 years, I will continue to work on my Patience, a lifelong struggle. 

*You won't find a 2025 WrapUp Post here, either, per se. I have, however, browsed through some photos on my phone and found a few to share with you, apropros of nothing.

1. This particular roundup of photos is especially for Julie. She mentioned making big salads for dinner and wanting to vary the ingredients. I commented on the post and told her that I often roast an onion and cut it up to put in our dinner salads. She later asked for a sort of tutorial, so Julie, here it is:

I preheat the oven to 375 and line a small pan with foil (or you can add it to the pan of whatever meat or other veg you may be roasting). I peel then slice a sweet/Vidalia-style onion in half horizontally, and cut off the ends so that it lies flat. I season it with Diamond Crystal Kosher salt, freshly ground pepper, and lots of dried thyme. Then I liberally drizzle it with olive oil. Into the oven it goes.

Once it's soft, about 40-50 minutes later, I cut it into wedges. We like it very chunky.

When the onion is all cut up, I toss it all together to mix in the thyme and oil and natural juices, then pour it all into our salad. The roasting makes the onion even sweeter, and the thyme is wonderful. I prefer using dried thyme rather than fresh; the flavour is stronger and it doesn't get lost in the heat.

2. This next photo is of my son Sam, who drove a real Ferrari race car for his birthday last year. It is one of Theo's favourite photos in the entire world because A)it is of Gunga, his favourite person in the entire world, and B) it is a race car. Whenever Theo wants to look at it, we always zoom in to see how big Gunga is smiling--how happy he looks. Theo smiles too and says, "Happy Gunga!" Why am I showing this to you? Oh, trust me; it will become clear very soon.

 This photo is a toy that Jared got in a Happy Meal when he was little, over 35 years ago. It was in a small crate of Hot Wheel and Matchbox cars that we hauled out of the crawlspace for Theo, who has outgrown many of the toys we have at our house. 

Theo refers to this car as Gunga. Um...obviously. Talk about Art Imitating Life, amirite? It wasn't immediately apparent to any of us why he referred to it that way until I remembered the Ferrari photo of Sam. Suddenly, it all made sense. 

*I should have known much sooner. I'd seen this sort of visual association in action before. Here's a photo of my spoon rest (not my actual one; this one is for sale on Ebay, and I'm writing this post from the lakehouse). Anyway, take a look at this spoon rest that is identical to mine, which Theo (now tall enough to see it on the butcher block) suddenly pointed to and said delightedly, "Nana! Happy Man!"

"So what?" you might be saying. "It is a man, and he looks happy. Not exactly genius, Nance." And of course you're right. This next photo, however, is from Theo's favourite book. Please take a look at the main character:

The Happy Man and His Dump Truck, ©1950 by Tibor Gergely

 Now look back at my spoon rest. AND--Did you catch the title of that book? He also calls the dog Z-Boy (one of Zydrunas's many nicknames). I want to remember that I was this amazed and awed and completely enchanted when my own sons undoubtedly displayed these sorts of developmental astonishments. I know that they must have because Jared and Sam are both very intelligent and intuitive. When they were Theo's age, however, I was teaching full time, wife-ing full time, and often exhausted while being a mother full time. I hope that I rose above that enough to be delighted and joyful, and that I showed it.

*Finally, I mentioned that we were at the lakehouse. We came for a few days so that I could have a change of scenery and some true rest and relaxation after a particularly bad flare-up of pain. It has been incredibly helpful. Views like this always are:

Happy New Year to you, my friends. Let's do what we must to make our corners of the world a good place.

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Merry Christmas 2025 From The Dept. Of Nance

 Merry Christmas, everyone. We made it, literally.

Congratulations to all of you, the Holiday Bringers And Makers. You brought it to life again. Well done. In the coming days, insist on your rest. Everything else can wait. Truly, it can.

In this photo you are seeing Theo's gifts from Nana and Pa and Gunga. Our family decided only to buy for Theo, gratefully streamlining our Christmas. Pa made him a solid oak rocking horse. The biggest (and most) packages are from Gunga, who is the most indulgent uncle ever. Those two are smitten with each other.

Enjoy your family, friends, and your tree this Christmas. Cherish your health and your home. And remember to treat yourself as the athlete you are for accomplishing this feat called Christmas:  relax, rest, and recover. 

A Pre-Christmas Quartet: Random Moments From The Dept.

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Some random moments from around the Dept. lately:

I.  My desire was unusually strong to get our Christmas tree up this year. I very much wanted the pretty lights and decorations which I especially enjoy in the quiet of the early morning. As usual, when we are hanging decorations, I get very sentimental about one in particular. It's a small, faded silver ball that was given to me my first year of teaching. One of my sophomore classes heard me fretting about not having any ornaments for our first tree as a tightly-budgeted newlywed couple, and they each brought in an ornament for me as a Christmas present. This little silver one was from a student whose family had nothing to spare; it was obviously one from their very own tree, and probably used for many, many years.  I still remember her name and her face from 45 years ago, and I always hang her ornament where I can easily see it. 

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II. Even though I have a Christmas tree up and there has been plenty of snow and cold weather (UGH), I am not ready for Christmas music. Honestly, I wonder if I ever will be this year. It seems that I can't find any that doesn't annoy me. Pianos are too plinky for me. Vocals start irritating and distracting me. Organ music makes me feel like I'm in a church or roller rink. Violins make me feel stabby. Jazz, after a while, makes me roll my eyes. And why is it that every Christmas album has some song on it that no one has ever heard of or is just awful? And, speaking of awful, can we just not with Baby, It's Cold Outside? Anyway, what Christmas music are you listening to that isn't terrible (or country) and won't get me Whammed?

III. Scene opens on living room. Nance is in the recliner; Rick is lounging on the couch. The television is on, tuned to the local news.

Weatherman:  Temperatures will remain in the upper 30s, near 40 degrees. Rain will move in, followed by a wintry mix and then more snow. Wind gusts will be strong--

Nance:  Rick! Go hook up the hose.

Rick:  (turns to look at her with fear and disbelief) Whaaat?

Nance:  Go get the hose and spray the front and back yards. I want to be able to see all grass before it snows again. Just once. Even for a minute.

Rick:  (looks at her carefully; he is gauging her level of seriousness) Nance. I--

Nance:  Rick. If I really, really needed you to do this for me, would you? Would you go out there and spray down the yard so that I could see grass if I absolutely had to?

Rick:  Yes. Of course I would. But in the back yard. I don't want the neighbours to see me and think I'm nuts.

End Scene.

IV.  My longtime readers know I have a Cow Obsession. I've loved them since I was a child, and I still dream of owning one (yes, a real one). My kitchen has a black and white Holstein cow theme, and I might be the only woman alive who isn't offended when someone says, "I saw this cow and thought of you." On Saturday, I saw Theo and we talked all about his Christmas tree, and then we talked about mine. I told him, while counting off on my fingers, "Theo, Nana has 1-2-3-4-5-6-7 cows on her Christmas tree! What do you think about that?" He looked at me, shook his head, and said admonishingly, "Nana! Too many cows, Nana." And then he just leaned back and laughed and laughed. 

Everyone's a critic, you know?

As I'm writing this, the grass we finally saw is already covered in the snow they predicted. It's flying thick and fast, propelled by those high wind gusts. No, I will never think it's pretty, and I do not care whether or not we have a white Christmas. More and more, I like the idea of the kind of Christmas my Vacation Cow ornament looks like he's celebrating. That gives me an idea:  maybe I need to look for some reggae Christmas music. That, as they used to say, just might Be My Jam.