DECEMBER STUFF
Some thoughts about December, unpacking after a move, and dreaming up a celebration. Thanks for stopping by But First Breakfast!
Moving is a lot of work.
No matter how many times I move, no matter how many household items and articles of clothing I give away, there’s still so much stuff to pack.
The first week of living in the new house has passed in a flurry of unpacking, setting up the utilities, and keeping up the usual schedule.
Two days after moving in we celebrated Thanksgiving and then, in the blink of an eye, it became December.
This December will be the first full month living in our new house. For a very long time, my husband and I have dreamed of living in a one-story, three car garage home. Yes, a three car garage. To be clear, we’re a two car family. But there’s some, OK, a lot, of garage type stuff that needs a home too. Some of that stuff includes a couple of large rolling toolboxes, a 3D printer station, a work bench, and shelving to hold tools like cordless drills, the Sawzall, sets of wrenches, chisels and Dremel tools. There’s a bit of gardening gear too like a shovel, a rake, and my bucket that contains the trowel, a scoop, and work gloves.
As I unpack box after box, after box, I am reminded of George Carlin’s famous bit about “stuff”. If you’ve never heard or seen it, click below. Carlin’s routine is from 1986. It’s just as spot on, and funny, today as it was then.
December is a month.
Retailers would have us think differently, but in my mind, December is the beginning of the holiday season. It’s also my birthday month. This year, Hanukkah begins on December 26th. December is the anniversary month of my mother’s death. She’s been deceased thirty-seven years. Mom died on December 29th, five days after my birthday. Every year, I remember how scared I was back in 1987 that she would die on my birthday. To say that December is a difficult month for me is an understatement.
December is a month where this kind of stuff, emotional stuff, takes up a bit more space, makes a larger home in my psyche.
But this December, I want to things to be a little different.
Remembering my mother, paying homage to her is something I am aware of throughout the year. I want to make a point of celebrating all the good things while aiming a softer focus on the grief and sense of loss I often feel at this time of year.
One of the things I do that makes me feel better, that helps keep the connection to my mother alive, is to cook and gather with friends.
I’m thinking that this year, I’d like to host a birthday breakfast complete with two birthday cakes since I can’t decide between Tres Leches and my grandmother’s chocolate layer cake. There will also be some sort of eggy, cheesy casserole dish and a big citrus fruit forward salad. Of course, there will be a make your own toast bar with toppings galore, everything from butter and jam to whipped feta with smoky trout.
Sounds amazing, right?
And speaking of amazing, take a look at this breakfast. My friend is traveling through Australian adventure. She’s usually more of a yogurt and granola breakfast eater, but she woke up hungry yesterday and sent me this photo.
It inspired my breakfast this morning. I froze the sourdough rye I bought a month or so ago. It toasts up beautifully. One half is topped with Labneh and strawberry jam, the other with half a bison burger with a fried egg on top. It’s true. Everything is better with an egg on top.It inspired my breakfast this morning. I froze the sourdough rye I bought a month or so ago. It toasts up beautifully. One half is topped with Labneh and strawberry jam, the other with half a bison burger with a fried egg on top.
It’s true. Everything is better with an egg on top.
Which is exactly how I’m doing December this year. I’m topping it with an egg.
Oooh, how creative! Love that you made the savory granola. I think next time I make it I'll omit the sun-dried tomatoes. Mine turned hard as little pebbles.
Please let me know how your oatcakes turn out.
Your birthday breakfast sounds AMAZING, and is perfect for you. I'm only sad I can't be there in person to celebrate with you. Maybe next year?
I have to chuckle about your half a bison burger at breakfast.
On another note, my November is like your December; always tinged with my mother's sudden Thanksgiving death. The two go hand-in-hand, and it's hard to manage grief and loss in the midst of what's supposed to be a celebration. My mother-in-law died July 5, but we were terrified she'd die on the 4th of July, another tainted holiday.