Good Yule

The mountains are covered with snow, the level down far enough that the lowest foothills had a sprinkling that is melting as the sun comes back to the valley. We've had more rain in the past 10 days than we had all last year, so it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas ... wait, that'd be a great title for a song!

I'm actually into it this year, decorating because my daughter-in-law, who loves Christmas, is going to visit--and I volunteered to hostess the b'fast club holiday party. I've actually bought and sent gifts, as well as placed wrapped packages around the tree already. I've made a couple of decorations and have stocked the cookie tins with sweets. For the highly motivated holiday devotee this seems commonplace, but I often put off Christmas until the weekend before just because I'm not a fan of "have to" anything.

Yesterday afforded a special time to wander through the memories of a time long past when I accepted an invitation to a holiday social function, the Lucia Festival, sponsored by the local VASA chapter. I was tickled to meet many Scandinavians and to hear brief snatches of my mother's heritage languages: Swedish and Norwegian.

The Lucia bride walked through the seated guests, along with her court, candles glowing on her crown of holly leaves. Her white robe was sashed with gold, and she carried a candle, instead of the traditional coffee bread for the family on Christmas morning. Her court sang caroles as they walked with her, and one woman and her daughter, both with beautiful blonde hair and blue eyes, sang Swedish holiday songs.

This was the 40th festival for this group, and as I enjoyed the pageant, my mind wandered back to my freshman year in college, when my roommate was the first Lucia bride at our Lutheran college.

Familiar family holiday songs were sung in Swedish by a trio of entertainers. Two Swedes seated at my table, who came to the country about 40 years ago, joined in, smiles lighting their faces. My mother reverted to her heritage language a few years before her death, and she laughed when I told her I no longer knew what she was saying --except for the common expressions that were used almost daily.

Yesterday, I didn't know the words either, but I remembered so many times being the one at the piano playing the songs, with my Scandinavian family members singing loudly and proudly. When I segued from the non-holiday music into the folk songs, they rocked the room with laughter and dancing! None of my family on my mother's side were tiny, so when they danced, the whole house vibrated. My father, who spent the time downstairs sneaking liquor with the other men, usually came up the stairs and announced that the house was going to fall down around our heads. Everyone laughed, danced more, and sang louder.

Dinner was (what else?) Swedish meatballs (yes, made with pork), dilled potatoes, veggies, Swedish rye with lingonberry jam, pickled herring, and rice pudding dessert (pictured). Although 9 almonds were added to the pudding to see who would clean up the kitchen, no one admitted to finding one. My mom used raisins after my dad bit into the almond one year and broke his tooth! With the age of the guests yesterday, I was worried we'd have to replace an entire bridge.

The only disappointment was the craft table: I thought it would be a craft event in a separate room, but it was just a few little items on a card table. I remember from my childhood that when Scandinavians had a chance to show off their handcrafts, they NEEDED an extra room for the displays! There were some baked goods, but I took a pass because I've been baking at home for the party I'm hostessing, as well as the family visit. So far, I'm being pretty good about staying away from the sweets, but it's tough this year!

It was fun, and I'm glad I said yes.