Being quite familiar with the charms and strengths of our everyday standbys, Nesquik and Droste, we made a batch each of Ibarra, Godiva, and Marie Belle. We used milk with each, and blended each in our trusty VitaMix for optimum frothiness and smoothness.
Ibarra is a treat fondly remembered from my childhood. It's from Mexico, and you may be able to find a similar product under the brand name Abuelita. Milky, sweet, with strong cinnamon overtones, this was the kids' favorite.
I've never been a Godiva fan. I like my chocolate either a) American--which to me means homey, milky, and indulgent, See's being my favorite brand in this category; or b) Swiss--refined, less sweet, and smooth as silk. Cailler's Frigor and some Lindt work for me in this regard.
Godiva has always seemed to me to be a very awkward marriage of these two types, the lovely packaging notwithstanding. Sometimes the chocolates are nice, but too often I find them to be shrill flavor combinations housed in brittle couverture: not my idea of an treat. Unfortunately, the Godiva Hot Cocoa did nothing to change my opinion of the brand. It was redolent of powdered marshmallows--nothing more than a tarted up Swiss Miss.
The Marie Belle was the clear winner for me. It was the most like the celestial brews I've had in Paris (at Angelina's) and in Rome (at the Hotel Exedra)--thick, creamy, and to be sweetened at the drinker's discretion. No off flavors polluted its singular charm; it was nothing but good, dark chocolate, through and through. Marie Belle will be the gift that keeps on giving whenever I'm feeling the need for a little warmth in the coming months.

I'm big on traditions and routines for our family. Family Prayer, weekly Family Home Evening on Mondays and weekday Morning Scripture Study: these are the foundation of our religious life at home. But we have many other rituals that are just as important. In the past, we've had Family Movie Night on Saturdays or Sundays, always accompanied by popcorn and chocolate milk. Then there are the pancakes we have for lunch almost every Sunday after church (yes, many of our traditions feature food as the central component). Patrick and I have Date Night on Thursdays; this time is a priority for us both, and the kids respect this commitment.

We're flexible enough to drop an activity when it no longer serves the family's greater good, and we're always on the lookout for something new that will help keep us learning, growing, and enjoying each other's company. Recently, I had a brainstorm for the new year and shared it with the rest of the crew.

Christian, at age 13, needs to be honing serious cooking skills in preparation for adult life. He and all the other kids love time with me in the kitchen, so much so that the bickering over who gets to 'help' can be a problem.

Here's my new solution: Friday night will now become CIA Night, named for the famous Culinary Institute of America just an hour upriver from our house. Each of the four bigger kids will have a Friday night tutorial with Iron Chef Mom (their appellation, not mine) per month, in which we will make a dinner of their choice, then serve it and do the clean-up.

Once in a while we'll have a Guest Chef. Our good friend Mike, who has been to culinary school and whose smoked spare ribs are the best I've ever had, has already agreed to several appearances in Perkins Kitchen Stadium.

The plan was met with great enthusiasm--everyone has already decided what they want to make for January (Christian: Cowboy Stew; James: Jambalaya; Hope: Scratch Mac & Cheese; Tess: Quesadillas). I haven't yet figured out what to do about the occasional fifth Friday night of the month; maybe we'll have a Family Restaurant Review. I'm open to other ideas, though.

I'm excited! Of course, the kids will still be pulling up a chair to watch what I'm doing in the kitchen, probably on a daily basis. But somehow even the prospect of scheduled one-on-one time with Patrick or me can cut a lot of arguing out of the kid mix.

My goal with all of our traditions (and of most of my other parenting strategies) is this: I want our home environment to be so fun, warm, and attractive that it is always everyone's favorite place to be. Of course, family members will always enjoy outside activities, as balanced and healthy individuals should. But I want Home to be first in their hearts. That can't come through compulsion; it only comes through the powerful attractive forces of unconditional love, clear expectations and communication, and absolute safety. Plus good food, of course.

Christmas Eve 1975--Here I am (the tallest one) with several siblings. Note the identical huge smiles--Baby Matthew in particular cracks me up! I hope your holidays are filled with peace and joy. I'm not sure whether I'll be blogging for the next several days; we've got a lot going on here, and I'm sure you do, too. But I'll be back very soon; I hope you will join me then.

Even living in sheet rock dust with a plywood kitchen, I was able to be somewhat creative in October. We shopped early for the pattern and material for Tess's mermaid costume; it came together pretty well (don't tell her that I sewed the cockleshell purse upside down). I also bottled some pickled spiced crabapples--mmm--can't wait to have them at dinner on Christmas Eve!

Way back in January, I agreed to create a Christmas card for sale through MAG. I'm glad I committed early, because the card was due in the fall, and without the commitment, it probably would not have happened. What an honor it was to be included in a catalog featuring talented artists like Ultra Violet, Valerie Atkisson, and others. I love being associated with this terrific group.

Patrick, aka His Majesty, surprised me with a trip to Rome to celebrate my 40th birthday. Yes, indeed, his stock is very high (as if it were ever low). Here's the Quirinale in the light of the setting sun on my birthday. The art, the light, the food, the company--it was a dream of a trip.

Patrick had also arranged for Carmen to meet us there; we love to celebrate our birthdays together (we plan to go to Antarctica for my 5oth/her 49th), and this was definitely one to remember. On our way to the catacombs of San Callisto, we encountered a shepherd and his flock of sheep! This, of course, made our pilgrimage perfect.

Other travel: In October I went to a conference in Utah. While there, I was able to spend a goodly amount of time with my fab sister Stephanie and my adorable grandmother. I also visited an amazing doctor who specializes in stress management. Amazing results: I haven't had a tension headache or muscle spasms in my shoulders since.

Blog learning curve issue: why won't the photos load where I want them? Must research this.

Here's a photo of Marvin working on the renovation of our kitchen/living room. It was taken at the end of October; the job is 98% done as I write. Hurray! I have the house of my dreams. More on this later.

Can you believe I was still gathering roses the week of Thanksgiving? So far, it's been a remarkably mild fall-into-winter. I'm doing everything I can to avert global climate change, but there is a silver lining to every cloud....I have ten David Austin English Rose bushes at last count. This is an addiction I have no intention of overcoming. These roses are hardy, repeat blooming, and disease-resistant; the flowers are fragrant, long-lasting, and gorgeous. Here they are arranged with some late cinnamon basil.

Knitting, knitting, knitting. Tess's teacher requested that all the kindergartners come to school with hats; I made this one a couple of weeks ago from a great knitty pattern ("Coronet") out of luscious Malabrigo wool (Molly colourway). Of course, Hope had to have one next; her colourway is appropriately entitled "Verde Esperanza."

Of course, where there is knitting (for me, anyway), there is ripping out. I designed an aran sweater to be knit in the round using Elizabeth Zimmerman's brilliant guidelines in The Opinionated Knitter. I used the gorgeous wool Carmen and Shauna brought me back from Ireland--a creamy oatmeal tweed--soft, yet crunchy enough for good pattern definition. I knit happily away until I got to the underarms. I then realized that my blackberries were going to be bobbling in strategically bad places. Out the whole thing came. I'll edit my design and start it over once I've finished what's on the needles now: a cropped turtleneck pullover using chunky plum wool bought at La Droguerie in Paris years ago. Down, stash, down!

This collage inspires me as I work on The Holly Place, one of two novels I'm writing at the moment. The central image is a photo by Cali Gorevic, a genius who lives nearby.

If you look up ‘consume’ in the dictionary, you’ll find that most of its definitions are negative ones—besides ‘to eat or ingest’ there is ‘to waste or squander; to absorb or engross; to ravage or totally destroy.’ (The American Heritage Dictionary, third edition) However, we are named ‘consumers’ by the media so often these days that the word no longer holds a negative connotation for us. I find this desensitization to be a dangerous one, because I believe our society has led itself into an unhealthy imbalance as it has increasingly focused on the act of consuming. We are here on the earth to begin to learn how to become creators, not consumers. The survival instinct of consuming requires no further honing or development on our part. Yet we seem to spend more time consuming or finding ways to be able to consume more. It is vital to our mental, emotional, spiritual—and perhaps economic—health that we find a way to balance the act of consuming with the act of creating in our daily lives.
Almost any type of work, from gardening to lawyering, can be a creative activity if we choose to make it so. When we clean the house, we create order. When we read a book, we recreate for ourselves the world the author has already created. When we exercise, we create new muscles and blood vessels. When we take care of children or parents or neighbors, we create bonds of love. For me, creativity is part of the process of living a rich life.
Hugh Nibley wrote, “Who then is to judge what is good, true, and beautiful? You are. Plato says it is...by anamnesis, the act of recalling what we have seen somewhere before...We recognize what is lovely because we have seen it somewhere else, and as we walk through the world, we are constantly on the watch for it with a kind of nostalgia, so that when we see an object or a person that pleases us, it is like recognizing an old friend; it hits us in the solar plexus, and we need no measuring or lecturing to tell us that it is indeed quite perfect. It is something we have long been looking for, something we have seen in another world, a memory of how things should be." (Hugh Nibley, Approaching Zion)
Mark Helprin wrote, “One lives for a very short time, and life is incomparably precious. To live has much less to do with the senses or with ambition than with the asking of questions that never have been surely answered. To ask and then to answer these questions as far as one can, one needs above all a priceless and taxing involvement with truth and beauty. These are uncommonly plentiful in music and painting, in nature itself, in the sciences, in history, and in one's life as it unfolds—if one labors and dares to see them.” (Mark Helprin, “The Canon Under Siege”)
Our minds are like muscles, which atrophy and become flabby if not used. Exercise will have holistic benefits, which will flow to other areas of our lives. As we begin to flex our creativity, we will find ourselves more able to deal with challenges which confront us, more adept at critical thinking and problem solving; better equipped to make informed decisions; increasingly able to form our own opinions; more disciplined. We will spend less of our time in idle consumption.