I was up when Bernie Castle plowed the drive this morning. Not sure if we were on the latter end of the island, or if he was just starting, but I remember wishing that the coffee was done brewing so I could run out and give him a cup.
Not that he would’ve been without. No doubt that his wife, Belinda, was up with him at the ass crack of dawn, pouring him a thermos and putting together a breakfast to take along on what is bound to be a long morning–no matter which end of the island he started plowing.
Bernie and Belinda are leaving anyday to spend the holidays with family down in Rhode Island, and then off to Florida for the winter. This morning, I can’t help wondering what we’ll do without them. Or how the very foundation of the island will hold up with out the presence of Alan and Kirsten–who, for the first time since Alan moved here sometime in the late sixties, are spending the winter away in a slightly southern zip code. And what will we do without Denise and Gerry, or Jude and Jeremy? All good friends who would drop anything to lend a helping hand, or who are always up for a dinner party, or a game, or just around to talk to. And all gone for the winter.
I am missing them all quite a lot this morning, as the 10 or so inches we got last night makes the rest of the world feel a very long way away. The boat won’t be running this morning, according to Jake, the boat captain. He put the word out last night, but Steve and I were delightfully out of touch, thoroughly enjoying a post-rush evening off, playing Cribbage, decorating the house and listening to Nat and Bing, Ella and Louis sing old, familiar Christmas songs. Yah, yah. I like that stuff. We were, admittedly, feeling quite relieved that we got all of today’s shipments on the special boat that ran yesterday. So if UPS is doing their job today, everyone should have their chocolate by Christmas.
A blizzard seems fitting for the longest night of the year. And the colored lights we left on all night fitting for the first night of Hanukkah. Steve, who’s dad was Jewish and whose mother was Catholic, grew up in a household that celebrated both Hanukkah and Christmas. We usually try to make latkes on the first night of Hanukkah. Unfortunately, last time I was on the mainland, my incomplete grocery list left us without potatoes last night, so I had to improvise. The experiment turned out so good, that I think it might be a new Hanukkah tradition. Check out my recipe for Zucchini and Yellow Beet Latkes.
In the mean time, I’ll be posting more about the storms here, our impending journey to the mainland where we’ll spend the holiday with Steve’s sister and her husband in Orland. I have no doubt that there will be many posts from that address, as Hans is a fellow blogger (A Country Doctor Writes), and whose Swedish holiday traditions mix well with Steve and Emma’s Jewish and Catholic ones. I am secretly looking forward to his Saffron Buns and Jansen’s Delight–which took some years to get used to, but now I am totally addicted to the overwhelming taste of anchovies with onions and potatoes. I hope to do a little cooking myself, and will keep you abreast of recipes.
ah, vacation. Sweet, sweet vacation.
