A Pandemic Christmas

 Given the relaxed nature of this year's celebrations, this is the first year in recent memory that I'm heading into New Year's without being completely exhausted. I could have done without the pandemic, but I could get used to scaled-back holidays. 

The boys requested a "real" Christmas pudding this year (meaning made with suet) so I obliged. They enjoyed it, which is good because there's quite a bit of it for them to get through (and a small one in the fridge that needs another steaming to serve on St. Patrick's). Observationally, it is darker than puddings made with butter or vegetarian suet, but otherwise looks more or less the same. They couldn't tell anything different in the taste. If you're wondering why there's a hole in the centre, it is because my pudding basin has a centre shaft. It might look less traditional, but it ensures my puddings are cooked through to the middle. Of course for something like a steak and ale pudding I need to use my old, traditional basin. I dare say, this turned out perfectly. 

I've had suet puddings before, the last time memorably after I had been vegetarian for several years. Growing up with a parent suffering from issues around food (I won't go as far as calling it an eating disorder as I'm not in the habit of armchair diagnosis) meant that she almost never ate anything she actually wanted, and certainly not in a quantity to be satisfying. Until she did, and then it was always a source of guilt, anger, and whatever overreaction she had at hand to cope with demolishing a bag of Doritos. So there was that cycle, over and over and over until she was dead at 56 having never had a meal she actually let herself enjoy. 

The Christmas before she died, we went shopping at Marshall Field's. We'd do that often enough that it wasn't anything terribly out of the ordinary, but that year she wanted to stop in at the restaurant for a cup of tea. She'd mentioned that they had individual Christmas puddings on the afternoon menu, and she'd get one but it would be, "Too much for her." Knowing she'd never get one unless I agreed to split it with her, I came up with  some sort of excuse that it probably wasn't real suet and what I didn't know wouldn't kill me. Friends, it was absolutely real suet. I'd been a vegetarian nearly 10 years at that point and knew the minute it hit my tongue that it was real suet. Know what I did? I ate the pudding, and I'm glad I did. There wasn't much I could do to make such a miserably unhappy woman's life any less awful, but I could eat half of a mini Christmas pudding. It didn't make me sick, it wasn't disgusting, and I went back to my vegetarian diet with no harm done. She was dead by May. I've never regretted eating that pudding. 

I kept my outfit casual and comfortable for Christmas day. I didn't cook on Christmas day because we had leftover seafood paella from the night before. I *thought* I had over-bought fish and that we'd be stuck with leftovers all week. Nah-they demolished it in two sittings. Anyway, I was able to catch a break from cooking on Christmas day. 

Still digging deep in my vintage wardrobe and was delighted to come across this 70s wool skirt I'd forgotten about. I'm wearing it with a vintage sweater from the Aman a Woolen Mills, in Iowa. These days, they don't make clothes-just stadium blankets, but at one time they produced gorgeous pieces like this. I have a tweed suit and another sweater from Amana, and am always keeping my eye out for pieces. As they're sort of local, the stuff does turn up in thrift stores. Not that I've been in a thrift shop since last February! They're open, but I'm not keen. 

I continue to age at an alarming rate. I don't care. Late December is a dangerous time for self-esteem as we're bombarded with New Year's ads for diets, gyms, and plastic surgery. You do what's best for you. I'm continuing my slide into decrepitude gleefully. Expect to see more photographs of my jowls as I keep it real here in 2021. I can shake them and make horse noises which is a rather impressive skill-perhaps I'll treat you to a video in the new year. 

I wore the vintage Woolrich sweater (gift in the 80s) but only for a few minutes because it is much to warm to wear inside. 

But it is a beautifully made piece of knitting and embroidery.

And the embroidered acorns on the hem are cute beyond words.

Knowing I wouldn't last long in it, I had a more practical poloneck beneath it. Still, most years I don't even unpack it, so it was nice to get photos anyway. 

Speaking of 80s sweaters, what do you think of this Bonnie Boerer monstrosity? I bought it new. No, I don't know what I was thinking either.

Birb!

The tag says 1987, and that seems right. 

As promised/threatened, here are the red velvet flares.

That was a good outfit-I'm pleased with how it came together this year. The velvet blazer is too large, but the giant belt does a good job of disguising it. 

I'll leave you with what I wore today-a velvet caftan with a velvet dress unbuttoned over. 

Tomorrow's a big day for Dan as we're going to take the test for his driver's permit. Then, he'll be able to practise driving. I hope we won't be at the DMV all day (because ya know, we're still in a pandemic and masks aren't required in state office buildings because our governor is a complete piece of shit.) Well, he IS! Anyway, most people are wearing masks anyway, but the idea that it somehow has to be a political statement is just...well, you know. I hope it will be quick. 

Take care and if I don't make it back before Friday, have a very happy New Year.