Advent-Ageous

Last August, I missed the boat by failing to prepare the Christmas Pudding. Again. See, I was informed by my Christmas Pudding Teacher that to do it properly, you really need to have the thing put together and resting comfortably in the deep freeze by the end of summer, or there's no point bothering. I use this wisdom as an excuse, annually, to neglect making the Christmas Pudding. To those of you who are better-organized, Shut it. No one likes a braggart.

However, since the pudding mold was lying fallow (again), today I seized the opportunity to press it into a different kind of service:

This year, I made it into an Advent wreath. By adding a couple of pounds of dry beans, four candles, and some filched greenery, I have redeemed myself in time for Christmas.

Today is the first Sunday in Advent, and I'm reminding you in time to do the same. Any four candles will do, and stealing evergreen fronds in the name of Jesus is its own kind of religious observance; try it and see if you don't agree.

Light the first candle tonight, and read a few lines of scripture. Here's a place to start if you need help: Advent Devotions

If you're feeling wiped out after the hubbub of Thanksgiving, or twitching under the pressure of all those shopping incentives, try a little reflection on the reason for the season. It always renews my feelings of hope. 

God Bless us, Every One.

Thankful

Considered the ultimate expression of our Mother's love for us, these rolls were absolute manna, as far as the 5 Scott children were concerned. Made only for high holidays, birthdays or other events deemed worthy, the rolls would cause us children to clump up in the kitchen, watching her knead, roll, butter, sprinkle and shape them. We jockeyed for the closest position as the pans came from the oven, redolent of yeast and butter. Mom allowed us one apiece while they were hot, and none of us was above throwing an elbow if it meant we could get ours first. All of the tongues were burnt, and all of the bellies thankful. They are possibly even better the next day, should any survive that long. Cold sliced turkey with a dab of mayonnaise and some leftover gravy on one of these is an ecstatic experience.

Margaret Hoake was a friend of my mother's, but to my siblings and me, the rolls will always belong to my mother. Making them is one way we commune with her memory.  It's also a love note I leave to my own children. Set aside a leisurely morning to make these, and let your kids burn their tongues, just this once.

Margaret Hoake's Crescent Rolls                                  Makes 4 Dozen

2 cups milk

7 cups flour

1 tsp salt

½ cup sugar

2 eggs

1 package dry yeast

½ cup butter (plus another stick, softened)

Scald the milk and set aside to cool. Using ¼ cup of the warm milk and a pinch of sugar, proof the yeast. Add eggs, butter and sugar to the milk and beat. Add flour and salt to mixture until workable, then knead on a floured surface. Place dough in a buttered bowl and cover with buttered wax paper and a hot damp towel. When dough has doubled in size, punch down and knead again. Return to buttered bowl and let rise again until doubled. Divide into 4 equal portions. Roll each into a 12" circle on a floured surface. Spread with softened butter and sprinkle lightly with sugar. Cut round into 12 wedges. Roll each wedge into a crescent and place on a buttered baking pan. Cover with buttered waxed paper and allow to rise a 3rd time. Bake at 350 degrees for 12-15 minutes and allow to cool on a rack.

Beware of lurking (and potentially combative) roll-snatchers during cooling.

Scary

Working on my new book, I've been up to my eyes in mittens. I've made 14 pairs in 16 days. And there are still 6 more pairs to go. The deadline is Monday. I'll probably make it, right?

In a fit of denial, I announced to Lindsay that today I was going to take a break from mittens and make a Halloween wreath for the front door.

"Let me get this straight," she said. "You're going to give yourself a break from making things, and use that time to make other things?"

Well when you put it like that it sounds scary.

I challenged myself to make the cheapest and fastest Halloween wreath possible. 

First, I spent exactly $11 at the Dollar Store, which netted me a truly sad little wreath, six sparkly frondlike thingys, some ribbon, pipe cleaners (naturally), a crow, and some swell suction-cup hooks to hang it up with. I also used scissors, wire cutters and a hot glue gun, which I already had.

I timed it, and the wreath took exactly ten minutes to assemble.

But then I went down the rabbit hole.

Because it looked a kind of incomplete to me. I decided that my Halloween crow needed a book to read while posing prettily on the front door. Which I then made from some cardboard that was in the recycle basket, and a little craft paint.

I glued a pipe cleaner to the back of the spellbook so I could wire it into position. I also sprinkled some of the glitter from the frondy-things onto the book's paint while it was still wet. I have glitter everywhere now, including up my nose, and it will never go away. Glitter is the Herpes of crafting. 

I'm pleased with myself. Even if I did use my time off from making things to make yet other things.

Happy Halloween!