Happy New Year

Wishing you and those you love –

all who bring joy, meaning,

and significance to your life –

a year of inner peace amidst global chaos,

good health in times of challenges to our well being,

pleasure and contentment as we make our way through the complexities of daily life,

and the blessings of knowing we are cherished and protected.

Happy 2009 to you

'Tis the Season

. . . for some small part of nearly everything.

The season for reflection -- pondering the year just past could consume another year! What an amazing year (actually, fantastic lifetime) this has been. Recent conversations have brought so many memories to the surface, have shaped so many unexpected hopes and wishes, and, as usual, have highlighted so many shortcomings. Seemingly random encounters open virtual storehouses of thoughts, each of which could lead to its own dissertation or, conversely, could hit an immediate stone wall. Most of those will join a growing "To Do" list of both concrete and abstract self assignments. And of course, there will be the perpetual sense of hopefulness -- this year I'll really get organized, this year I'll really do things differently, this year I'll really make a dent in those good intentions!

The season for gratitude -- creating a list of the gifts of life, every size from petite to XXXXXL and beyond, is an endless task in and of itself. Most conversations, thoughts, and encounters seem to either focus on or somehow touch a deep well of gratitude for all the marvelous gifts I've been given: my family, my friends, countless opportunities, new horizons, all the seemingly accidental encounters and even dumb luck which have moved me through a virtual dictionary of emotions. And for each of them I am a deeply grateful.

The season for renewal -- renovating and refurbishing the various compartments of my brain is a never ending task. This season brings new emphasis and concern to the work. For some unexplored reason the holiday season always tucks this two-sided coin in my mental stocking: Joy and delight at all the wonders and a bit of wistfulness about the "roads not taken." And for every item on my mental punch list as I take occupancy of this House of 2009 (how can that be?) there will be a stronger sense of reality and urgency to get on with the job, whether interior decoration or external landscaping!

The season for regrets -- examining and bringing reality to the mistakes, lost opportunities, poor decisions, and general oooops, whether of 2008 or the accumulations of a lifetime. To paraphrase one of the British poets, distance does not lend enchantment to this view! I'm grateful for the lesson learned from an acquaintance some years past, a psychotherapist whose work with "women of a certain age" was beginning to hit the best sellers list of the time. She said that the difference between guilt and regret is that regret indicates you've learned something and now know how to act/interact differently. Guilt means you intended to hurt/harm another or yourself and may continue to do so. And though I wish to keep the regrets to a minimum in this season, I would fervently wish to eliminate the times when "I'm sorry" is caused by guilt.

The season for resolutions (and a few promises!) -- determining the most relevant changes and being constant and steadfast in bringing them about is such a global resolution. Yet I do know that I can change only myself, even as I wish I could bring positive change into and for the lives of others. Creating those ripples of new horizons for the lives I touch is a big resolution for this coming year. I will continue to make all the little promises which can help that happen.

It's a major season for me, my brain, and my heart. As we began this journey nearly a year ago now -- who'd have thought it would look and be like this? -- I had no idea where we'd go, what we'd see, who we'd meet. It's been an absolutely incredible adventure -- a magical triumvirate of people, places, and events. I must say, I can hardly wait to see what 2009 will bring, what the season's musings will bring about. I do hope you'll join me in the discoveries!

Sundries

So many little things knit themselves together to make a good day, a satisfying week, or a weekend in which everything seems to go just right. After all these years, I'm beginning to learn that my most important job (in every situation) is to be ready. Then just "go with the flow". And these times are almost always unexpected. That's how things have been lately.

► What a super Mikulas ((pronounced mick'-oo-lahsh) party last weekend. First, I feel so honored to be included in events such as this with great people, marvelous multi-ethnic food, and a general good time. The hostess was the neat young woman who was the former Assistant Director of Studies at StJ and has now returned to teaching. We are able to spend a few moments together each week in the reception area where we have classes at the same time at one of the StJ clients. I always look forward to those times together. Yes, the flat was small and packed wall to wall with people. But what fun! Getting there, being there, and getting home just before the tram schedule switched over to the night service -- all of it. Laughter piled upon laughter, new ideas and interesting perspectives continuously floating around in the swirl of conversation. What an evening!

► I awoke (long before daylight, as is usual now) to a lazy snowfall Friday morning. It was one of those times when a relatively brief tram ride takes me from snow to rain to only cloudiness, then perhaps back to more snow. The seven hills of Prague certainly produce interesting weather differences very quickly. The snow seemed to be a little heavier as I was riding, and I got off into huge flakes coming down hard enough that they were beating a rhythm on my umbrella. And suddenly - - nothing but wet cobblestones and droopy hair. After class the sky seemed lower, the general color around me was that of frozen mist, as if the atmosphere had "frozen" the breath of the world as it exhaled.

► Fast forward to another, longer tram ride in the early afternoon. The view was unchanged from the previous several hours when I shut my eyes for a few moments, I guess just because it seemed like a nice idea. Now I know it was preparation for a major gift, because when I opened them I was in the middle of an incredible winter wonderland. In that area of the city the snow was wet and heavy, the bare branches had been dressed in white fleece at least three inches thick, the grassy areas between apartment buildings were under an untouched blanket of white. It was so dramatic that all I could do was gasp and stare. What a gift! As I descended -- very carefully -- from the tram, I was in the middle of brown slush and puddles. And even with that I couldn't take my eyes away from the incredible beauty around me. Wish you could have shared it with me.

► How many years now have I been humming along with "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire"? As usual, Wikipedia gave me a longer answer than I needed, but it certainly added some sparkle to my internal music score. I did know it was written during WWII, 1944 to be precise, by Mel Torme, that man with a golden voice. I didn't know he discovered four lines written by Bob Well, the lyricist, sitting on the piano. Wells wasn't intending to write a song; he was trying to "stay cool by thinking cool" during a hot Arizona summer. Those four lines -- Chestnuts roasting, Jack Frost nipping, Yuletide carols, Folks dressed up like Eskimos -- became what is/was the most-performed Christmas song. And it took only 40 minutes. (Enough time left to enjoy a glass of iced tea!)

And now it isn't just words -- "roasting chestnuts" is a real experience for me. When Dasa and Thomas and I were waiting for a train in her village this past summer, she exclaimed about the dying chestnut trees which had always sheltered the little waiting area. Tree after tree was either dead or soon would be. That was, I believe, the first time I thought about chestnuts coming from an "ordinary" source, as pecans do in Oklahoma. This holiday season I've seen many little stands selling hot roasted chestnuts as I walk between trams and between classes, and it was such a nice connection between summer and winter. But there has always been a reason to keep going, or to put it differently, a reason not to stop. This past week curiosity and some spare time won out! I indicated to the young man tending the chestnuts and the fire that I would like some. Right away he reached for a bag and a long handled large spoon, opened the giant pot, and weighed out my 100 grams. And yes, they were hot! Within a few moments, however, I could begin the peeling process. Oh my goodness. They are good! Rather soft, somewhat dry and mealy, very satisfying. Since I was close to the company, I closed the bag, hugged it tight so it wouldn't cool, and took it to my student. We opened class enjoying warm chestnuts and hot green tea -- talking in English all the time. It was just the right touch on a really cold day. One of the best parts was his smile of surprise when I asked to learn about eating chestnuts!

► All week the temperatures have been hovering in the mid- to high-20s at night, low- to mid-30s during the day, usually accompanied by a noticeable and sometimes brisk breeze. I normally wait to stroll across the Charles Bridge until a more pleasant day. This trip couldn't wait -- and it was wonderful. One of my "favorite" friends here is a lovely young California woman, former teacher of children with special needs, one of those people whose quiet smile just lights up a room. Whenever she admired a pair of earrings I was wearing the answer would always be "I got them on the Charles Bridge years ago." And she would always reply, "I wish you'd take me sometime." Yesterday we made our trip -- and I certainly hope it isn't our only one. What a marvelous excursion. We were both looking for gifts, both suitably huddled in our scarves and gloves, and both in the mood to walk and talk, and stop and look, and go back to something else, then forward to something new. Even the frozen fingers and toes couldn't stop us. They did, however, make us linger in the best looking heated tourist shop after we reached the other side of the Bridge! The trip was successful in every way -- she found just the right gift for a birthday party she was attending that evening, I found something I never thought of as a gift for Thomas (I do hope he likes it -- it's not on his list any more than it was on mine!), and we really warmed up at a small cozy restaurant near the US Embassy that she remembered from a freezing day trip last year about this time!


► And I never would have predicted that my plans for this Sunday evening would include a "Service of Lessons and Carols" -- one of my longstanding favorites of this season -- at an Anglican church. So many marvelous moments have been spent watching the Service from Westminster Cathedral at midnight on Christmas Eve. Other memorable times have been enjoyed preparing for and participating in the Service myself. And now, here I am, partway around the world, a series of unexpected choices bringing me to that Service again, joined by friends from Scotland, Britain, South Africa, and the US, as well an yet unknown friends. (I always enjoy eliciting the difference between "strangers" and "foreigners" from my students.) I do hope they folks planning the service haven't decided it's time for all new carols. And as I listen and sing, I know the memories will be crowding my spirit. It's a good thing I don't need to read the words. I'll be spending the evening with so many people who have shared the Service with me in the past. And who knows how many others will join the crowd in the future.

Have you noticed how much time we spend worrying about, fretting over, and dreading difficult events and times? (The news in the US is doing much of that for us, although personal concern is certainly justified!) My wish for you in this holiday season is that you will anticipate, expect, and plan for joy and peace. Joy waiting to surprise you in each new moment of your days, and peace deep within you, knowing that the right things do happen at the right time. It is our perception and awareness which is limited. I'm learning. Fortunately the process is continuously reinforced! I hope you also are being surprised by joy.

It's beginning to look a lot like - - -

Oh my, it seems that things speed up at this time of the year no matter where I am. The past few weeks have been hectic, my brain is constantly overflowing with projects left half-completed, and my body is saying "Give me a break, won't you please." Everything that has been added to the normal schedule is wonderful, however, so I just answer - - "Later!"

Christmas has so many traditions here -- some related to saints (more on that later) and most about family and food and good times that have endured. I've thoroughly enjoyed listening to the different stories my students tell -- and watching their faces as they relate what they have done or will be doing this year. Whether with their family of birth or the family they have created, all place great importance on being together, including all generations available, and keeping their own family traditions alive, whether for two people or twenty-two.

So let's go to the beginning of the season and one of the saints -- St. Mikulas Day. (Recognize a similarity to Nicholas there?) December 5, StM Day, is the "official" beginning of Christmas, as I understand it. And I've heard some marvelous stories overflowing with nostalgia. Here's what I've learned - - -

The Christ Child is the gift-giver on Christmas Day (December 24th here), and on Saint Mikulas' (Nicholas) Feast Day (December 6), children in some Central European countries traditionally place a boot on their windowsill (sometimes balcony, if fortunate enough to have one in their flat) waiting for Mikulas to come by and fill it with treats. "Good" children receive various fruits, candies, and toys, "bad" children can expect nothing more than a wooden spoon or a willow-switch left by his somewhat sinister elf-companion, Krampusz, in Hungary. In the Czech Republic, Mikulas is often accompanied by the Angel and Devil. And it is on December 5, the Eve of St. Nicholas' Feast, they receive their treats. However, since no one is all good or bad, most children get both sweets and a switch! (Thank you, once again, Wikipedia.)

As it has been related to me multiple times -- with nearly identical memories -- Mikulas (Czech/Central European spelling) is always with an angel and a devil. The angel (and the Saint) reward good children, and the devil will put them in a sack and, depending on who's relating it, burn them or banish them. I was a bit taken aback by a parent who was quite delighted to relate how much he frightened his children -- apparently intentionally -- with the devil threats. There is a "walk around" in Old Town Square on the evening of December 5th. Parents bring even their young children (reminiscent of parents bringing toddlers to Central Park West till the wee hours of the morning to see the Thanksgiving Parade balloons inflated!) to see the grand trio.

College students and other young people count on earning some cash during this time! During the afternnoon one can see various angels and saints boarding trams for their destination for the evening, wings under their arms, staff and crown looking very unsaintly. It seems some kids have recognized the face of a relative under the beard or mask when the group visits their home, so parents are now opting for strangers to perform the task! (Sound like some of the Santa figures you've known or heard about?)

One of the requirements for meeting the Saint is the performance (very well done, of course) of a song or a poem, something you've been preparing for some time. And of course your boots must be well polished. My Czech teacher recalls singing and reciting as if her life depended on it -- and indeed, she believed it did! Her story is representative, so here it is.

Dad took her and her sister to the square in their town; Mom begged off with some excuse about work or health, or something that would keep her home. The girls got through their performances, received their little treats, and made their way home with Dad. They were met at the door by their mom who was pleading for their help. "There was a terrible noise on the balcony and I am afraid to go out their to get _____ (fill in the blank with your own experience and imagination)." Of course the girls and Dad had to help. SURPRISE! The boots they had placed (sounds like stockings at the fireplace to me) were filled with wonderful things such as oranges (a rare treat at that time) and little candies. What joy!

Just as in the States, decorations and music and enticing sales precede even St. Mikulas day. My favorite, at least to this point, is the Christmas Market in Namesti Miru, the park/square across from St James. (They are all around the city, though, and it is interesting to look at similar items and dissimilar prices in different markets.) The Church of St. Ludmila dominates nam. Miru, and the market is in front of the church in a manner I believe is probably similar to the markets of years, possibly centuries ago. It is a series of many small wooden structures -- actually they would be good stand-ins for a stable in a nativity scene -- joined together in some places, then starting a new row or making a 90-degree turn at others. Each stall has a different offering, some with food, candy, or wine, others with handmade Christmas linens, or decorations, or other winter and/or gift necessities. Frankly, I just love walking slowly with the crowd. The huge Christmas tree with a nativity scene in front of it is decorated with hundreds of blue lights, as are the stalls. How beautiful and what fun to watch!

Women have been baking the marvelous Czech Christmas cookies for weeks now. One colleague even brought a plate of them to StJ for teachers to share. Yummy!

Shopping has begun in earnest. I've heard several people talk about finishing "early," but most seem to be just getting started. The trams are much more crowded than usual, and of course they are many more bags taking up space.

Christmas itself is a multi-day event. The 24th is the "big" day -- a public holiday, and the day of the first family get-together. Traditional foods are carp and potato salad, and everyone near enough will be there. The 25th is the day you prepare another big meal and share it with other relatives/close friends, those you didn't see the day before. As you can imagine, there's quite a bit of traveling, quite a bit of merry making! And at least from those who've told me their stories, the gift giving seems a bit more restrained. And it is definitely for the children.

Since we had snow again yesterday, it really is beginning to look a lot like Christmas -- white, lights, and all. And the festive spirit is evident. I hope you're enjoying it with me, wherever you are.

Thanksgiving - - -

the official Day, at least, is over for another year, no matter where you live! At least the American version is, as well as the versions transplanted to other places around the globe. And the meal? Well, let's just say that there were a lot of substitutions here!

As with most things, there is a story behind it all. My initial impulse to create a "transplanted" dinner begins with the memories of Michael's first Thanksgiving here and his efforts to provide a Thanksgiving meal for his friends. Bear in mind this was shortly after the Velvet Revolution and in a town much smaller than Prague. Contrary to my expectations, some of the details have not changed all that much.

I had a more-than-willing accomplice. As a matter of fact, Theresa, a good friend and teaching colleague, became the prime mover in the whole event. Little did I realize the impact of my original, tentative "What do you think about doing a Thanksgiving dinner?" comment. From then on, my major contribution was that of cheerleader! Theresa and Peter, her partner, have a great flat, almost made for entertaining. (They actually have a small room they were told used to be the servant's room! And that is totally believable.) They also have a circle of long-time friends. Already we're talking a ready-made party here! In addition, she loves to cook and is constantly looking for excuses to spend time in her small but terrific kitchen. I was more than happy to give her yet another one!

First, of course, is the fact that T'giving is a normal work day here. It is ovious that Czech holidays, not American ones, provide a day off. We decided on Saturday following the official day -- a pretty logical second choice, since everyone was busy on the official day and had to get up to go to work the day after! Next decision -- 3:00 beginning, no pre-determined end. Given the fact that the day and dinner are so traditional, the next decisions involved figuring out how to get as close as possible to our traditional expectations.

And therein lies the adventure! The American owner of Jama, a great restaurant/pub near Wenceslas Square, is among Pete's circle of friends. And quite naturally, Jama was serving T'giving dinner in style for expats and interested Czechs -- on the actual day. Simple! He was more than happy to get us a turkey -- fresh a day later -- from his butcher. And his butcher was happy to cut it in half for us. Got the picture? That's one-half to be baked in my small oven and one-half in hers! Of course there was the slight complication of getting it home. Again, no problem. Each half was wrapped separately, and cooperatively we lugged our own halves a long walk to the metro station and a long walk to our separate flats.

Oh yes, I forgot to mention that Theresa lives only one (long) block from me. When we go to Czech class together we just meet at the tram stop at the top of the hill, and when we want to unwind on a Friday evening we meet at the pub at the bottom. Handy, right? Also very handy for transporting dinner plates and cutlery as well as cooked food, then returning with leftovers.

This adventure had been in the thinking and planning stages for some time now. And in spite of various suggestions from students and adventures on the internet, I did not come up with fresh (or freshly frozen) cranberries. BIG disappointment, since the three staples in my own holiday dinners are turkey, stuffing/dressing, and my own version of cranberry relish. Oh I do love that relish! Because a cranberry sauce tops svickova, a favorite traditional Czech dish, I knew they "existed" here. But, it turns out, not raw. So I spent an extraordinarily long time cutting orange and lemon peel into teeny tiny pieces with a somewhat dull knife to add to the available cranberry sauce. In case you're curious, it's much softer than the Ocean Spray jellied variety -- it actually pours from the jar. And tho' I was assured in an online chat that Ocean Spray would arrive on the shelves "any day now", I never saw a can or a bag. But this substitute was tasty and provided about half the tartness I enjoy.

It also provided a marvelous humorous memory. At my local grocery store I asked a lady in the produce department for "brusinka" (cranberries). She didn't understand me and looked very puzzled, but when I showed her the word on my list told me they didn't have any. I thanked her and proceeded to shop some more. A few minutes later I hear "madame, madame." It is my produce lady carrying two jars of the sauce. She'd gone to another department, found it, and brought me a choice of brands. And then the smile! She told me she thought I'd used a word for kiss! So we had a good chuckle together, I thanked her -- and blew her a kiss as she walked away. I could hear her laughing her way back to produce. What fun!

Next unavailable item -- Pepperidge Farm or Arnold's stuffing mix. Obvious substitution there also. Buy my own bread, which I did. Four different varieties. Clean, cut, then saute lots and lots of celery and onion, part of the routine even when using the "starter". Because I'm a believer in veggie bouillon as a staple, I was already confident I could add some herb-y taste, and packets of marjoram and basil (already residing in my cupboard) contributed more. Missing? Sage! Still haven't seen it. I know the Czech word, I just haven't found it on the shelves.

Because I was teaching my relatively heavy schedule through all this adventure, I will be the first to admit there are multiple more shopping options in Prague, lots of little shops with lots of specialities, and if I had both the time and the energy, I probably could have found a few more things on my list. As it turned out, it was quite all right that I didn't make any further forays into the world of retail food!

Of course we invited my flatmate, Thomas. His contribution was his grandmother's Corn Pudding, a staple in all their holiday meals. And therein lies yet another substitution. No creamed corn here! Lots of kernal corn, but none creamed. So the preparation for the corn pudding began with finding a recipe for creamed corn. Which we did, and then improvised on. I believe I have a picture of Thomas mashing two packages of cooked frozen corn with our big soup ladle (we don't have a potato masher either!) against the sides of the big cooking pot! From there it took time, not major energy. And, of course, conversion of quantities. "Looks about right to me" was a common phrase Saturday morning.

Remember we're talking about a really small oven, so another adventure was juggling stuffing, corn pudding, and turkey cooking times. (The sweet potato dish had already succumbed to boiling, not baking, along with the winter squash.)

And yes, it all came together yet another year, and this time in another place. The turkey was one of the most beautiful I've ever done, although resting quietly on its side, Stuffing was different, and really good. Cranberry sauce was interesting, and while not a real substitute, a good thing in itself. Corn pudding will, when not quite so much work, become another staple for me. What a great adventure.

And the fun was just beginning!

I arrived early, of course, and other guests began to gather. When all the gathering was done we were a group of 16 people from seven countries, some with American English (and traditional Thanksgiving dinner) as their heritage, others (the Brits and the Irishman) with just another version of it, and the rest (more than half) with English ranging from fluent to at least a smattering. And what fantastic conversation. It is hard to imagine that Theresa had some games in readiness just in case people didn't talk. With only normal conversational tone, it got quite loud in the flat. What fun! When doing post-party analysis, I realized there were actually four distinct circles present with the only tie being to either Theresa or me. And it really worked!

The real question was how to get the conversation slowed down enough to start people through the buffet line. (We didn't; we just turned into shepherds and brought them a couple at a time.) I'm not sure when we would have moved from cheese and dips and crackers to dinner if we hadn't had a guest who needed to leave early. It was 6 p.m. when we finally cut turkey and began the "real" food.

So yes, Thanksgiving in Prague is over for another year. Even the turkey soup is nearly finished. And there are new baking and serving/storage dishes residing in my kitchen. Guess I need to create another excuse to use them!

And yes, I am so thankful. That is a daily, nearly hourly attitude. How grateful I am to have my wonderful family and friends in the States, to be here, to be healthy, to be blessed with such great new friends and terrific opportunities. It truly is a wonderful life. And I hope you are enjoying it with me.