A Homestead Christmas

Earlier in the season, Judy, a long-time reader of this blog, asked how we spend Christmas Eve and Christmas. I replied, but why not expand on that reply, and describe a typical, traditional Zeiger Family Homestead Christmas, which we are celebrating right now?

Christmas morning in the Zeiger cabin, 2017 (Photo: Mark A. Zeiger).

While we visit friends through the Christmas season, which for us stretches from the day after Thanksgiving until Epiphany, January 6th, Christmas Eve and Christmas Day are often just the three of us, unless family comes to visit.

We try to finish with town trips by December 23rd if possible (see A Blank Slate). As a rule, we are all home for good by Christmas Eve morning.

On Christmas Eve I make the traditional oyster stew, which Aly and I love. Michelle loves it because it means she can make something special for just her, usually tamales.

The tradition of oyster stew in my family is a bit odd. When my mother was growing up, her family served oyster stew for Christmas Eve. Meanwhile, Santa Claus would visit their home, filling stockings in the other room. When he finished, he would ring a certain bell before leaving. If the children finished dinner before he left, they could go and see him. As dinner was a much-hated meal, they never, ever finished in time!

My mother used to make oyster stew for Dad on Christmas Eve. He was the only one who liked it. Eventually, my brother and I decided we liked it. After that, one of us would make it for the three of us, relieving Mom of the annual task of making her most hated meal!

Mark prepares the traditional oyster stew on Christmas Eve (Photo: Michelle L. Zeiger).

After Christmas Eve dinner, we generally play games, or read aloud Christmas favorites from treasured picture books, such as Clement C. Moore’s A Visit from Saint Nicholas (The Night Before Christmas) (this is, in my opinion, the most magical illustrated version of this poem!), Chris Van Allsberg’s The Polar Express, and Dean Morrissey’s The Christmas Ship (paid links). We continue to read these even in Aly’s adult years, although we often just look at the pictures together, cuddled on the couch. Some years, I’ll read Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol, although we prefer to do that earlier in the season, rather than devote three solid hours to a story on Christmas Eve.

Meanwhile, some one or other of us will surreptitiously wrap last-minute presents in another room.

We retire fairly early. Darkness comes early, of course, so the night seems long to begin with. And, of course, “retiring” requires a lot of stocking stuffing and strategic ignorance as we move around each other in tight quarters, preparing the next morning’s gifts!

Christmas morning starts with cleaning the wood stove glass (if the fire hasn’t burned all night long), then laying and starting the new fire. We light the gas stove to boil a tea kettle and make coffee. I’m usually the first up to get all this done. I’ll light the lights, candles, and oil lamps, and set up Christmas music. Then, if it’s too early, and there’s time, I’ll take photos of the living room to allow Aly and Michelle to sleep later.

Once they’re stirring, I like to play the Christmas song, Past Three O’Clock to officially start Christmas morning. The gentle humor implied by the announcement that it’s past 3:00 a.m., time to get up and open presents, appeals.

After that, we play Christmas music all day, as we do throughout our holiday season (see Enduring Christmas Music).

We start opening presents with stockings. These almost always contain a lot of food, like pickled peppers of various kinds, canned herring and shellfish, and plenty of chocolate. Traditionally, we each get a chocolate orange—”Never a surprise, but always a pleasure!” as Aly observed this year.

We then start a brunch, based on the stockings bounty, but always with stollen, generally baked the day before. German stollen is a tradition from Michelle’s family. That “brunch” always includes a good deal of chocolate (and gifted rum balls this year—stone the crows!) and generally lingers through the day till dinner.

We take a long time to open gifts, accompanied by stories about each gift’s significance or provenance, particularly in years when we hand-make them (see The Real Value of Homemade Gifts and Hand Crafted Drop Spindles for Christmas). We don’t usually have many gifts to open, but we can spend all morning at it.

Aly pauses to watch the sunrise, mid morning on Christmas day 2017 (Photo: Michelle L. Zeiger).

We eventually begin preparing the big afternoon/evening meal. This is usually turkey, although, before they got so expensive, Michelle and I used to have goose. We have tried to be more flexible (and opportunistic) recently, and are open to a roast, particularly venison, for Christmas, but a turkey takes us both back to our family roots.

During this, we make and receive family phone calls.

We eat the evening feast more formally, then play games or read aloud till bed time.

To many in this modern age, this must sound stultifyingly dull, and hopelessly insular, but it is our tradition, and we cling to it gratefully from year to year.