Nature's Bounty: Christmas with @hortandpott

Todd Carr and Carter Harrington have created a somewhat over-the-top world of botanicals and foraged elements in the heart of the Catskills.

I LOVE THE SENSORIAL HARMONY AND VIBRANCY OF THE CHRISTMAS SEASON, and the nostalgia that is inextricably tied to the ancient celebration: the scent of fresh pine and spruce, the sounds of bells, carriages and carols, the warm light of candles and fireplaces, the twinkling glow of Christmas tree lights, and of course the timeless tradition of bringing the outdoors in. The magical experience of Christmas truly is the embodiment of all the elements that we hold so dear at Hort & Pott.

At home, we start our Christmas celebrations with a search for a tree at our favorite local farm. We’ll hold a decorative ceremony by playing some of our favorite music, like Phil Spector’s “A Christmas Gift For You”, light the fires and embellish the tree with our favorite glass woodland ornaments of creatures, birds, pinecones, mushrooms and more, which Todd has been collecting since he was a teenager. It creates a gleaming spectacle and woodland sanctuary to ward off the colds of winter and paves the way to cook hearty meals and relax around the table, crafting new ornaments and treats.

At Hort & Pott, we take the idea of Christmas and run with it by going a little over the top. We craft wreaths, garlands and ornaments, and attempt to capture the nostalgic essence of the holiday through vignettes, photography and botanical installation. It’s a time to celebrate, and we want to inspire people to get into the spirit by hosting wreath-making workshops, crafting, and offering fresh-foraged wreaths, garlands, swags and homemade ornaments celebrating the natural world. We take decorating to the next level by incorporating a lush bounty of lights and botanical decor that we primarily forage from the Catskills, all of which aims at expressing the beating warm heart of the holiday.

It may come as no surprise that our favorite Christmas decoration to work with is the wreath: the eternal symbol of nature and a timeless classic that we get to re-interpret in many ways. The wreath is a magnet for the various decorative elements that fuel the Christmas spirit and perfectly encapsulate the season’s greetings. A wreath can be simple or complex, and may incorporate native, local botanicals as well as accoutrements that we handcraft, developing new ideas annually.

People often ask us how to bring natural elements indoors for Christmas. The obvious answer is a tree, but we are aware that it may not be practical for everyone. It’s simple to cut some evergreen branches from your outdoor surroundings, but of course people can always visit their local florist or tree farm for fresh-cut evergreens, which can be placed on mantels, used as table centerpieces, or hanging from a door or banister. While we love berries, we tend to keep the “messier” plant materials outdoors because they drop, requiring a clean-up effort. One of our favorite simple ideas is filling a bowl with pinecones, with sprigs of white pine peppered in for a festive and understated table piece that can still evoke the feeling and smell of the woods. It’s really about capturing the essence of nature. And of course, we’d recommend keeping fresh-cut greens away from any heat source for longevity.

We at Hort & Pott draw our inspiration from a mental library of the holidays we’ve been developing for years, drawing on age-old customs and reworking and experimenting with ways of adapting and reinterpreting them. This year we are playing with gingerbread ornaments. Our inspiration has developed from looking at myriad customs, both old and new, from various parts of the world; we have a fondness for the old ways, when bringing the outdoors in wasn’t just a decorative practice but a magical one to celebrate nature and her cycles.

Personally, my favorite Christmas memory, hands-down, is Christmas tree picking with the family. I would spend hours scoping out just the right tree, wearing down the patience of my family who were eager to move on with it! I gravitated to the wilder trees that looked less groomed, and the joy of finding a bird’s nest in the tree of choice -- good luck!! My mom always went all-out for the event, bringing picnics and ending the night with a nice bonfire and hot cocoa, cementing the experience and tying it in to the nostalgia that decidedly informs the work I do at H&P. I want to re-create this feeling by translating this feeling through our craft and photography, and eventually creating our own Christmas tree picking experience for people.

Hort & Pott’s Christmas celebrations will be evolving this year. Since we are in the midst of a big move, we will be exploring completely new terrain to decorate with. We will be renovating our new space and creating an online Christmas experience. We are going to focus on the elements that help build the decorative experience around Christmas: diving into candle culture, hand-crafting ornaments and wreaths, and helping people discover new as well as traditional ways to bring the outdoors in, while of course still having our own intimate experience in our little farm house. We plan to take a road trip to visit our families in New Jersey and Virginia afterwards, to share in some of the festive spirit!

— @hortandpott

Repurposed Traditions: Christmas with @earthangelsstudios & @skippydoodledesigns

Traditions are kept by the certain magic of sharing them—whatever “they” might be—among family and friends. By imbuing a holiday with them, a collective memory of the annual event is passed along the generations in taste, color, song and story. Traditions evolve as they’re enjoyed in familiarity; the best nod to all that’s fresh among those that share in them, with something new added each year.

Story by Jen O’Connor | Folk Art by Sue Parker

MORE THAN ANY OTHER AMERICAN HOLIDAY, CHRISTMAS IS TETHERED TO CHILDHOOD through a web of memories. Many of our fondest recollections are fragranced with yuletide’s annual treats, those fancy cookies and lovely cakes that beg us still to indulge each season. Along with those home-baked confections, carols, and of course, gift-giving form the cornerstones of so many of our holiday traditions.

So, while the season simply wouldn’t be as fond in memory without the scents and tastes we know and adore, there’s another truly handmade tradition to note. Each year, amongst the platters of sugar cookies, eggnog and rum drenched tortes, chances are there’s something handmade that’s serving to set a mood as holiday décor, and has been used as such for some time!

It’s often these decorations that are touchstones in memory; they’re the handmade something that comes out of its box in basement or attic year after year to stand sentinel to the season, again and again. The object—whatever it is—becomes dearer as the years accumulate along with the patina of age.

You must know something like that… something you recall from Christmases past and still might see on your mother’s hutch, mantel or Christmas dinner table?

For me it was a small hand-carved wooden Santa I played with each Christmas as a little girl. He slid down a thin spring only for me to pull him up and drop him time and again with his sack of toys into a flocked paper chimney. He was special to me because I played with him year after year while he was out of his storage box and displayed on the coffee table. I adored that this tiny handmade decoration waited for me, much like I waited for Christmas each year, a child truly smitten with the season.

Most of us – even if it was a decade or two ago – have made some kind of holiday decoration and kept it out of sentiment. Or maybe what we treasured most was something handmade and given to us as a gift …something for the home or tree that reflects the season and its sparkle.

Indeed, crafting for the season was de rigueur in the earliest of modern Christmas celebrations. The idea of gifts or decorations being mass-produced and widely available is something that has come late to this largely handmade holiday, and seems to miss the festivity’s spirit.

As gift-giving emerged as a tradition in Germany, Austria, and soon after in England, the dark evenings of fall and early winter were spent making special treats by hand to gift loved ones. Early American celebrations followed these Western European ways, and small wooden trinkets, knitted things and hand-cut paper whimsies were all common gifts to present as tokens of love and friendship at the holidays. How perfectly wonderful to still share something handmade; a simple gift from the hands is a gift from the heart.

As folks reach to preserve and refresh the tradition of handmade and add to our own Christmas memories, nothing could be more fitting for the holiday than the freshly repurposed crafts from Skippy Doodle Designs of Columbia, Connecticut. Crafting maven and designer Sue Parker concocts the sweetest of holiday décor from castoffs and vintage loot. In her merry and able hands everything from recycled cigar boxes, forgotten tree-trimming paraphernalia and even tinsel fragments find new life on her one of a kind assemblages.

Indeed, her studio reflects the North Pole as she merrily combines textures and objects creating a crop of new holiday décor that simply suits the season’s folly and joy. Among her favorite techniques are marrying disparate castoffs in color to tell a new story. In her able hands and with a dose of festive imagination, an oddball 1950s paper house might meet up with a lonely reindeer and become something more fitting in a frenzy of mica-drenched snow. Likewise, a wayward elf finds a new home among vintage bottle-brush trees and wee tarnished bells. Her pieces each tell a story of Christmas past with a nod to the freshness of recycling and renewed crafting traditions.

Handmade things hold all the joy and sentiment with which they were created. Season after season they can be visually relished, and then tucked away to keep the good memories in store for the next holiday. So, if you don’t have something handmade around the house to help celebrate the holiday, consider the handmade spirit of the season and reach for something – or gift something -- that can become dearer as it holds the memories of each annual celebration.

A New Heritage: Christmas with @mustloveherbs

Deep in the eastern Kentucky mountains Lauren of @mustloveherbs is creating a new style of heritage.

LAUREN, A TEACHER BY TRAINING, IS AN AVID BAKER, GARDENER AND FORAGER. Her New Heritage style of cooking embraces using ingredients at hand, while paying homage to tradition and old-fashioned simplicity. She loves spending her time reinventing traditional family recipes to fit today’s tastes and ingredients. Lauren’s kitchen garden not only feeds her household in the warm months, but also throughout the winter by utilizing many ancestral food preservation techniques.

Where do you live? Where did you grow up? I live in the Appalachian Mountains of Eastern Kentucky, in the same small town I’ve lived in all my life. My family’s roots in this area run over 200 years deep. The road I grew up on was actually named after my great-great-great-grandmother. 

Tell me a little about yourself. I grew up in an a very artistic family. My mother is a teacher with a degree in developmental psychology, and has a gift for decorating and making things beautiful. My father is a talented musician who owns a recording studio/production company. I grew up in a home with a beautiful garden, next door to my grandparents. My grandfather, Big Daddy, had an acre garden and a greenhouse; this is where my love of gardening started. My family spent a lot of time together. We were known to share multiple pots of coffee and stacks of magazines in the evenings.  I met my now-husband when I was a junior in high school. We have traveled, remodeled, and raised 5 wonderful pups together in our 13 years of marriage! So much of who I am now, I can attribute to his love and support. 

What role have food and cooking played in your life? When did you start cooking? I come from a long line of very good “country cooks” as well as professional bakers. I was taught at a very young age how to string beans and peel potatoes. My grandmother would put a chair at the kitchen sink for me while she cooked, and let me make my “stews” with scraps from whatever meal she was cooking. I truly felt like I was making something delicious along with her. As I got older, she taught me how to correctly make gravy and cornbread, along with countless other meals. 

Who taught you to cook? Was your family culinary? My maternal grandmother, Meme, taught me how to cook. My mother and father are both excellent cooks, but were afraid I would burn the house down. My grandmother often nearly burnt the house down herself, so that didn’t faze her. 

When did you first realize you had a passion for cooking? Around the age of 5. I have always been drawn to the kitchen. If someone was cooking, that was exactly where I wanted to be. Seeing someone stir a pan of gravy is almost hypnotic to me. 

What is it about food and cooking culture, or dining, that you love? I adore that we can share so much of who we are through cooking. Heritage is often spoken through a dish or while enjoying one. Cooking bonds people by allowing us to try new things together or to enjoy comfort foods that bring back the fondest of childhood memories.

How would you describe your cooking style? New Heritage -- country cooking that has been updated only when it needs to be, in order to adapt to today’s ingredients. 

Where do you find ideas and inspiration for your recipes? My biggest inspiration is my garden. In the winter this often means I pull out things I’ve stored from summer harvests or use what is in season, such as apples, root vegetables and cold-weather greens.  I am also heavily inspired by family recipes. Lately I have been doing my best to make my grandmother’s Christmas cookie recipes! They are a family tradition that I am determined to get right.

What is your favorite thing to cook for others? Bread. Whether it is cornbread, biscuits, focaccia or even a Babka, everyone loves bread! 

What is your favorite item in your kitchen? My favorite kitchen item is my grandmother’s cast iron skillet. It was originally my great-great-grandmother’s. She received it as a wedding gift in 1919. It has been passed down through the generations of our family ever since. 

What has been your biggest challenge with your cooking? Your biggest accomplishment? My biggest challenge has to be my newly-developed red meat allergy. Being Appalachian means that pork goes into nearly any dish. Cornbread is often made using bacon grease. Soup beans aren’t complete without a ham hock. Making all of my favorite meals taste just as good without using pork has been my proudest moment. Even my pork-loving momma said, “they taste just like Granny’s” when referring to my fresh green beans.

CHOCOLATE & PEPPERMINT BARK

Ingredients:

12 ounces semi sweet chocolate (chips or bars)

Chopped old fashioned peppermint candy sticks and/or candy canes

Holiday themed sprinkles

Directions:

Prepare a baking sheet with parchment paper and set aside.

Melt the chocolate in a microwave-safe bowl using 30-second increments. Stir after each increment. When the chocolate is nearly all melted remove it from the microwave and continue to stir until it becomes smooth and glossy.

Pour the melted chocolate onto your prepared baking sheet and smooth it out until desired thickness is achieved.

Sprinkle the peppermint candies and sprinkles evenly over the melted chocolate. You may need to lightly press in some of the ingredients.

Allow the chocolate to cool at room temperature for 3-4 hours before breaking. You can also place in the fridge for 30 minutes if you are in a pinch.

Once completely hardened, carefully break apart the chocolate using your hands. Store in an airtight container until ready to serve or gift!

CRANBERRY, ROSEMARY & ORANGE CAKE WITH ORANGE CREAM CHEESE FROSTING

Ingredients for Cake:

⁃3 cups of flour + more for dusting

⁃1/2 tsp of Baking Soda

⁃1/2 tsp of Baking Powder

⁃1/2 tsp of Salt

⁃Zest of 3 oranges

⁃Juice of 1 orange

⁃Zest and juice of 1 lemon

⁃3/4 cup of buttermilk

-2 cups of cranberries

-2 sticks of butter (1 cup) at room temperature

⁃2 cups of sugar

⁃2 tsp of vanilla

⁃5 eggs

⁃2 tbs of fresh rosemary

Ingredients for Icing:

⁃2 cups of confectioners sugar

⁃4 oz. cream cheese at room temperature

⁃1/2 tsp vanilla extract

⁃3 tsp freshly squeezed orange juice.

Directions for Cake:

Preheat the oven to 350°.

Grease and flour your Bundt pan.

In a medium bowl combine 3 cups of flour, baking powder, baking soda & salt. In a small bowl combine the zest and juice of the oranges and lemon with the buttermilk. Set aside.

In a separate bowl add the cranberries and 2 tbs all purpose flour. Stir until all the cranberries are completely covered in flour. Set aside.

In your stand mixer cream together the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Add in the vanilla. Add the eggs in one at a time. After all eggs are added turn the mixer off and scrape the bottom and sides of the bowl making sure there isn’t any unmixed butter and sugar.

With the mixer on low add the buttermilk and flour mixtures to your butter & sugar mixture by alternating between flour and buttermilk until both are gone. Add the rosemary in and mix until evenly distributed.

Take the cranberry and flour mixture and fold it gently into your batter. Make sure the cranberries are even throughout the batter but do not over mix.

Pour the batter into your greased bundt pan and bake for about 40-45 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the middle of the cake comes out clean.

Allow the cake to cool in the pan for a minimum of 30 minutes. This is imperative to it coming out cleanly! After 30 minutes flip the cake out carefully onto a wire rack and allow to cool for another 30 minutes. While the cake cools you may prepare the icing.

Directions for Icing:

In a medium sized mixing bowl combine the confectioners sugar, cream cheese, vanilla and orange juice. Use an electric mixer on medium speed mixing thoroughly until icing is smooth and creamy. Add more juice 1/2 tsp at a time if the icing is too thick. Add powdered sugar in 1 tbs at a time if mixture is too runny. The consistency should be somewhere between a frosting and a glaze.

Spoon the icing evenly over the cake. It should spread nicely over the edges on its own.

FUDGE & ALMOND PINE CONES

Ingredients:

1 cup semi sweet chocolate chips

2 oz unsalted butter

Pinch of salt

7 oz sweetened condensed milk (1/2 a standard can)

1/2 tsp vanilla extract

2 cups sliced almonds

Directions: In a heat safe bowl combine the chocolate chips, butter, salt, condensed milk, and vanilla. Using the double boiler method, heat your ingredients. Be careful not to let the water touch the bottom of your bowl. Stir constantly until all the chocolate has melted and the mixture is smooth.

Take off heat immediately and place mixture in fridge to cool for 20-30 minutes.

The mixture should hold its form but still be moldable.

Form the chocolate mixture into a cone shape and place it on parchment paper. Begin sticking almonds into the bottom of the cone. Move your way up placing each row behind the next in an overlapping pattern until you reach the top. Place the finished pine cone in the fridge to set up for a minimum of 1 hour! Makes 15 pine cones! Recipe Can easily be doubled.

Springerle Stories: A Visit to Genesee Country Village

Share in this 500-year-old holiday cookie tradition courtesy of our friends at the Genesee Country Village and Museum

TEXT + RECIPE BY PAM FRIEDLER WITH DEANNA BERKEMEIER PHOTOGRAPHY BY GOOR STUDIO

SPRINGERLE IS A TYPE OF MOLDED COOKIE THAT HAS BEEN PREPARED FOR HUNDREDS OF YEARS. Some of the earliest springerle molds found in Switzerland date back as far as the 14th century. The molds used to make springerle were usually carved from wood or made of clay or metal. Some of the earliest images portrayed in springerle were Biblical scenes, and they were used to educate those who couldn’t read or write.

Eventually other scenes were carved, and the cookies soon reflected images of holidays, events, and scenes from everyday life. The cookies were also used to celebrate births, weddings, and used as betrothal tokens. Exchanging springerle during the holidays was a common practice very much like we exchange cards today.

Springerle are delightful cookies that take about three days to make, and the outcome is a splendidly embossed, tasty cookie that is lightly crisp outside and wonderfully soft inside. Once the cookies are molded, they must be left uncovered for 12 to 24 hours to set a crisp crust with a sharp, clear imprint that holds when baked.

Traditionally flavored with anise, one 1787 receipt (recipe) we have that was translated into English from the original German has the dough laid on top of a pan strewn with anise seeds as the flavoring. These days the flavor possibilities are only limited by your imagination and the wide variety of flavoring oils available on the market. Springerle can be stored up to three months in an airtight container, where the flavor will continue to develop over time.

At GCV&M, we strive for historical accuracy, therefore we have chosen to use a recipe that dates back to the 1600s but has been slightly altered to account for modern changes in flour milling and the fact that we no longer must pound our sugar from a solid loaf.

This recipe, from House on the Hill called “Perfection Springerle,” calls for a leavening agent called hartshorn or baker’s ammonia, aka ammonium carbonate. Hartshorn is a form of ammonia and gives the raw dough a distinct ammonia flavor that will completely disappear upon baking. Hartshorn produces the “spring” (leavening) that helps the cookie keep its delicate internal texture while retaining its crisp embossed top. You can always substitute an equal amount of baking powder for the hartshorn if you need to, but it is readily available online.

When painting the springerle, always mix your color with an alcohol, such as triple sec. Do not use water as it will soak into the cookie, whereas the alcohol will evaporate quickly and leave the surface dry. We paint them with powdered or very finely ground historical food coloring agents, such as beetroot, spinach, black walnut, turmeric, annatto, cinnamon, and cochineal, by mixing the powder with a small amount of triple sec. Most of these, in addition to powdered blueberry, tomato, pumpkin, and more, can readily be purchased online. You can also use the triple sec with modern gel food colors to paint the cookie.

HOUSE ON THE HILL PERFECTION SPRINGERLE COOKIES

These whisked-egg holiday cookies date back to at least the 1600s and were made in Bavaria, Switzerland, and the Alsace area of France. This recipe is just perfection for flavor, ease, and print quality. Historically, springerle were anise flavored. Anise seeds were scattered on the cookie sheet and the molded dough was placed on the seeds to dry before baking.

Makes 3 to 12 dozen cookies

1/2 teaspoon baker’s ammonia (hartshorn) or baking powder

2 tablespoons milk

6 large eggs, room temperature

6 cups powdered sugar

1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened but not melted

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 to 3/4 teaspoon anise oil

2-pound box sifted cake flour (Swansdown or Softasilk)

Grated rind of orange or lemon, optional (enhances flavor of traditional anise or citrus flavors)

More flour as needed

TO MAKE THE DOUGH

1. Dissolve hartshorn in milk and set aside for 30 to 60 minutes.

2. Beat eggs until thick and lemon-colored (10 to 20 minutes).

3. Slowly beat in the powdered sugar, then the softened butter. Add the hartshorn and milk, salt, preferred flavoring, and grated rind of lemon or orange, if desired.

4. Gradually beat in as much flour as you can with the mixer, then stir in the remainder of the 2 pounds of flour to make a stiff dough.

5. Turn onto floured surface and knead in enough flour to make a good print without sticking. Wrap dough tight in plastic wrap or zipper bag and refrigerate overnight.

TO MAKE THE COOKIES

6. On a floured surface, roll dough into a flat pancake approximately 3/8-inch thick. Roll thinner or thicker dough based on the depth of the carving in the cookie press you are using. Shallow carvings will need thinner dough, while deeper carvings will need thicker dough.

7. Flour your cookie mold for each and every pressing. Press the mold firmly and straight down into the dough.

8. Then lift, cut, and place the formed cookie onto a parchment-lined cookie sheet.

9. Do not cover the cookies while they dry. The goal of drying is to set the design. Let the cookies dry at least 12 hours; 24 hours is best. Larger cookies and warm humid weather may require longer drying times. Cookies that are not dried long enough will not retain the beautiful designs, but will taste fine.

10. Bake on parchment-lined cookie sheets at 255°F to 300°F until barely golden on the bottom for 10 to 15 minutes or more, depending on the size of the cookie.

11. Store in airtight containers or in zipper bags in the freezer. They keep for months, and improve with age.

GENESEE COUNTRY VILLAGE AND MUSEUM

Genesee Country Village and Museum is the largest living history museum in New York, the third largest in the country, and was founded with the goal of preserving and sharing architecture of the Genesee region with a focus on life in the 19th century. The founder of the Museum, the late John L. (Jack) Wehle, envisioned a museum village of authentic examples of 19th-century Genesee Country architecture, showcasing the art of typical village artisans. Beginning in 1966, buildings of the style, type, and function found in the rural communities of Western New York State were acquired and reconstructed in the configuration of an early Genesee Country hamlet. Genesee Country Village and Museum opened to the public in 1976 and eventually grew to 68 historic buildings, including a working 19th-century brewery.

The Museum also includes the John L. Wehle Gallery, which houses a world-renowned collection of wildlife and sporting art, and the exquisite Susan Greene Costume Collection, composed of 3,500 rare 19th-century garments and accessories. The Museum is also home to a Nature Center with over five miles of trails and a vintage baseball stadium, hosting a full season of games.

All year long, GCV&M runs a robust season of classes, events, and special programs. The Museum is located 20 miles southwest of Rochester and 50 miles from Buffalo.

Around the Christmas Tree

An Essay by Ellen Tichenor

I suppose it all began a few years before my birth in 1952. My grandparents, Russell and Hilberta Pannett, were visiting a Christmas worship service where the altar table was adorned with a small tree branch wrapped in cotton and decorated. Russell leaned over to Hilberta and said, “If they could do that with a branch, we could probably do that with a whole tree.” I was told those were his words. Thus began the tradition of the “cotton” Christmas tree.

As long as I can remember, my family never had a normal evergreen like most families.But, the cotton tree was truly a family affair. I don’t remember how old I was when I first went with Daddy to cut down the sweet gum tree, for which we had been searching since early fall. Momma was always ready to get started immediately after Thanksgiving, after helping her mom, Hilberta, with her tree.

Each branch of the tree was carefully wrapped with a strip of quilting cotton. This was usually Momma’s job, but we all had our turn to help. Daddy’s job was to put on the lights-C7s, not the little mini lights used today. Next came the tinsel, or icicles, as you might call them. They were gently placed on each limb to cover the entire branch. Then the ornaments were carefully placed throughout the tree. Last of all we did “the bottom.”

My grandfather made a fence in which Momma placed a little village to the right of the trunk. A pebble path led across a bridge (placed over a mirror pond) to the manger scene on the left of the trunk. Newspapers were wadded, and a piece of quilting cotton laid over them for the snow on which the village and manger were placed.

For the entire month of December we had friends over every Sunday night after church to see the tree. Everyone would comment that it was even more beautiful and bigger than the year before. You see, nighttime was the best time to see it. The darkness from the picture window made the tinsel shimmer more brightly from the lights.Many pictures were taken of the tree, but none could capture the true beauty of it.

We didn’t know that the 1986 cotton tree would be the last one that Momma would ever do. She died just 2-3 weeks after Christmas. As far as I was concerned, this tradition died with her-too much trouble if you asked me!

As Christmas 1987 approached, my sister was planning a trip from her home in Indiana to wrap the tree. Over the past 18 years, she has used Mom’s decorations (even the same tinsel) to have a cotton tree in her home if it were big enough and time allowed. Four years ago, my brother’s children experienced this tree in his Utica home.

Despite my thoughts of a dying tradition, I too, will be proud to share a cotton tree with my friends and community this year. My new home will be featured on the Ohio County Hospital Auxiliary home tour December 4. However, the only place large enough for my tree is my bedroom! I am very excited about sharing this tradition, but this will be the last one for me!

Timeless & Classic: Christmas with KJP

No one does Christmas quite like Kiel James Patrick and Sarah Vickers.

I’M KIEL JAMES PATRICK, A BORN AND RAISED NEW ENGLANDER, FASHION DESIGNER, PHOTOGRAPHER, AND FAN OF ANYTHING OLD, TIMELESS AND CLASSIC. My wife Sarah and I formally launched our brand in 2007, but the dream that ultimately came to fruition as KJP began long before that. My high school, Bishop Hendricken, had a strict uniform policy that I just couldn’t abide by. Luckily for me, I was handed down my grandmother’s sewing machine. I started making fabric bracelets for my friends and me to wear under our uniforms. Man, I must have made at least a thousand of the first KJP bracelets on that machine.

Shortly after that, I met Sarah – we were two teenagers crazy in love, with big dreams. We’ve spent nearly every day together since then. We always had long conversations about where we saw ourselves in the future, and we kept returning to the idea of working for ourselves and creating something that was both unique and representative of our New England lifestyle. We are both avid collectors of vintage clothes, and our first foray into fashion was selling old clothing under the name Wicked Vintage. A lot of our original ideas for KJP were born out of that endeavor. Working with vintage fabrics and patterns, we were invigorated to try some new takes on classic fashion accessories.

We used any materials we could get our hands on at first: old ties, vintage pants, beat-up shirts, and of course rope, to design our accessories.

We’ve always had this untamed ambition and a steady sense that we’re living out our own version of the American Dream. Eventually, we hit our stride, and started our first KJP workshop in the space above my parents’ garage, hand-dyeing hundreds of ropes a day in old lobster pots we found in the attic. Thankfully for everyone’s sake and sanity, we’ve moved out of my parents’ garage, and now the lobster pots are reserved for Memorial Day Weekend.

In many ways, KJP has developed and matured alongside Sarah and me. When we first started out, we’d spend any free time we had at the beach, riding bikes in Nantucket, sailing in Newport, and having bonfires at Beavertail Park -- long summer days with the ocean as the backdrop to all our adventures.

That was reflected in the designs and products we were making at the time. Back in those days we were only an accessory company, focused on nautical “New Englandy” summer styles. Moving through life together, we grew, we changed, we became more well-rounded people and in turn a more well-rounded company. What you see from KJP now reflects where and who we are today. We have our own family with our own growing traditions. More than ever, we really highlight the four seasons that New England is famous for. Those breezy carefree days at the beach have blended into family beach adventures with sandcastles and lots of sunscreen.  And for every trip to Nantucket there are two trips to the mountains for a cozy cabin getaway. That’s why KJP nowadays reflects a total seasonal indulgence. The Cozy Cabin Collection is basically all the things we love to wear on leaf peeping trips, decorating the house for fall and winter, or spending the holidays with family and friends.

We still love our New England summers but it’s the cold weather months that spark that magic of our favorite seasons.

Our style has developed and really been influenced by my love and appreciation for art, particularly the art that’s inspired my photography, like that of Norman Rockwell and Thomas Kinkade. Their work embodies the ease with which you can get lost in a surreal scene. It’s probably why one of my favorite hobbies is going to antique stores, because there

I’m always finding little pieces of Americana that remind me of a painting, a Christmas card or a page from a book I grew up reading. I love that combination of familiar but fantastical. It’s a welcome escape from the craziness of today’s world, and definitely something I think of when we’re capturing and creating our own photos. When you look at one of our pictures, if it doesn’t take you away for a second and transport you that place and time with a warm feeling in your soul, then it’s not a picture worth remembering. I want to remember every photo I take these days.

My favorite Christmas tradition begins at Thanksgiving. Every year we go to my family’s cabin in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. After dinner we decorate the Christmas tree my parents planted in the yard when they bought the land. When Sarah and I started doing this, the tree came up to my waist. Now it’s about three times taller than I am.

We’ve had to keep buying bigger ladders as the tree grows. But my favorite part is that almost without exception, it snows there on Thanksgiving Day. It’s our oldest tradition as a couple and I really look forward to it. Then it’s a race back inside before my dad and brother eat all of the apple pie.

My favorite New England “staple” is, believe it or not, shoveling snow. I love layering up in the morning, throwing on our gloves and Bean boots and spending a couple hours in the cold tossing some snow around. The best part is leaving your wet clothes by the door while you warm up by the fire with a cup of hot chocolate.

My mom’s gingerbread cookies are easily my favorite Christmas food. My mom’s an amazing baker and she uses a gingerbread recipe from her mom. Every year she and I have a blind taste test to see who made the best gingerbread cookies. Some years she wins, some I win, and the loser always goes home a little bitter, but I guess they go home with gingerbread too, so it’s a pretty sweet consolation. As for my favorite Christmas song, that’s a very hard question! It has to be older than me to make the cut as a favorite, but if I had to pick one it would be “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” by Burl Ives.

That’s more than just a song for me, as it reminds me of being a kid in anticipation of Christmas and knowing this was the one time of year we could watch the Rudolph special on TV. My dad told us it was what he looked forward to most as a kid. No matter what was going on, we watched it as a family together, and to this day we still wait until we’re all together to watch it. Now when the song comes on the radio, I get a kick out Harry singing the same song his dad and grandfather sang joyfully as kids.

Sarah and I got married at Christmastime 2015 at Henry’s Christmas Tree Farm. Henry’s is a special place to us that we’ve been visiting since we were teenagers, and there was never any doubt that’s where we were going to get married. We got our Christmas wish and it snowed just enough on our wedding day to cover the whole farm in a light hue of green and white. It’s definitely my most precious Christmas memory.

Christmas has a way of freezing time. A certain song comes on the radio, or you’re looking out the window when it starts to snow and just for a second you think you might be ten years old again. It doesn’t matter how many years go by, I love watching the same movies, putting up the family’s old ornaments, and even eating the same pot roast I’ve pretended to like for the last 30 years. Tradition is what I look forward to most about Christmas; to me, it IS Christmas. Now, the best part is I get to see it all over again through Harry’s eyes.

Celebrating is going to be a little different this year, but the best parts of Christmas have always been the simple things and I’m really thankful we can still do those. I love driving around the neighborhood to see everyone’s decorations, setting up the projector for Christmas movie marathons, wearing all my classic Christmas sweaters, and drinking too much eggnog with my family. I’ve got everything I need to celebrate right at home.

It's Spectacular: Christmas in New York City with @ethanbarber.co

Christmas in New York City is unlike anywhere else in the world. Ethan Barber shares his memories and images from past years of merry moments.

GROWING UP AS A KID IN CENTRAL NEW JERSEY, DAY TRIPS TO NEW YORK CITY WERE A FAIRLY COMMON OCCURRENCE. My family’s annual Christmas trip to the City however, was by-far my favorite of them all. As far back as I can remember, December has always been synonymous with New York. I can still vividly recall a childhood moment of holding my mom’s hand while walking up 34th Street—the blistering, cold wind stung whatever small peeks of my face were still visible behind layers of my favorite scarf and Carhartt hat.

While the long days of walking around Midtown would quickly switch from fun to exhausting, the magic flowing through the City always made up for it. From the moment I emerged off the escalator at Penn Station on to 7th Avenue, I could physically feel a shift. Car horns were blaring, Christmas music was flowing in the background, and people were rushing in all directions. From the edge of Central Park and the tree at Rockefeller Center, to the Empire State Building and Macy’s on 34th, down Broadway into Soho and even further still; Manhattan was always full of people rushing to get their gifts and souvenirs. While the smell of candied nuts overpowered the city air, an inexplicable energy swirled around me—one that could only be best described as the magic of Christmas—just like in those cheesy Hallmark movies

Ultimately, I think it was these annual trips into the City at the holidays that inspired me to work towards being based in the City full-time. While I love the City and it continues to be the main source of my creative inspiration, I think I’ll always be a Jersey boy at heart. (It’s likely the root of why I refuse to move into New York City proper—I just can’t let go of my suburban roots on the west side of the Hudson!)

My current office is based in Soho, the neighborhood where I derive the most inspiration for my work. From historic cast irons to cobblestone streets, I’m drawn to the most minute details—they don’t make ‘em like they used to!

If you wander into the city on the right winter day, you just might be lucky enough to catch a passing flurry or the beginning of a strong, winter storm. Seeing whirlwinds of snow rush across the historic facades of Soho up to the towering skyscrapers of Midtown is without comparison—just mind your hands and face, or you might catch a touch of frostbite!

Always Cozy: Christmas with @keeleymckendree

Keeley McKendree (@keeleymckendree) has created a cozy cottage world that comes to life with the Christmas season and spirit.

I LIVE IN A COZY COTTAGE NESTLED OUT IN THE COUNTRY IN THE BEAUTIFUL STATE OF NORTH CAROLINA, with my husband, Nick, and our two cats, Arnold and Lenny. I’m a maker, creator, gardener, baker, and lover of all things cozy and vintage.

Gosh, there is so much I love about Christmas! At the top of my list are the cozy, warm feelings that Christmas brings, and all the time spent with family. At Christmastime, everything just seems so magical and happy. Even simple housekeeping tasks seem almost joyful by the warm, peaceful glow of the Christmas tree. The fun little activities, like baking and making crafts together, are special to my close-knit family.

I have so, so many favorites Christmas memories! When I was growing up, Thanksgiving night was the kickoff to the season. My daddy would drag in all the Christmas boxes from our storage shed and put on Christmas music. My mama, brother, and I would go to town decorating the house and putting up the tree! I also remember decorating my grandparents’ and Granny’s house for the season. They had a huge, white two-story house, and we decorated their staircase with a collection of vintage elves my MawMaw and Granny had. Every year, we’d wrap the garland around the railing and line the elves up the railing.

Those elves were my most favorite Christmas decoration ever, and still are. My mama has them now, and she sets them on her mantel in a sleigh. 

Every Christmas morning, my daddy would wake us up at about 5 am with a singing Tigger Santa -- Tigger from Winnie the Pooh, dressed up like Santa, singing “Santa Claus is Coming to Town”!  The four of us, my parents, my brother, and I, would spend Christmas morning together. Then we’d head to my grandparents’ and Granny’s house for our big extended family Christmas with a huge breakfast and lots of presents. I will never forget feeling swallowed by all the wrapping paper and toys everywhere! My MawMaw and Granny were very, very important women to me, and they have unfortunately passed away. But every year when I’m decorating my house or baking my Christmas treats, I feel them right there with me! They loved the holidays so much.

Nick and I have our own set of Christmas traditions now. Every December 23, we begin our three-day Christmas-palooza! During that day, we celebrate our little Christmas together — me, Nick, and our fur babies, Arnold and Lenny. Nick and I bake treats together, open presents, drink lots of coffee and hot chocolate, watch Christmas movies, and let our kitty babies open their gifts. They’re always far more fascinated with the paper than the toys!

On Christmas Eve, Nick’s mom makes us a yummy supper, and we open gifts and visit with family and friends. Then on Christmas Day, we wake up super-early and head to my parents’ house. My mama makes breakfast, we watch A Christmas Story, and enjoy the morning together. And of course, the family pup, Nestor, gets to open all his little gifts. Then we head to my PawPaw’s house and gather with my aunts, uncles and cousins to eat lunch, open presents and spend the afternoon together. On Christmas night, Nick and I make Christmas dinner for my parents and my brother. When everyone has left for the night, Nick and I snuggle up on the couch with our fur babies for some decaf coffee and reminisce about the wonderful day.

Over the past few years, my source of Christmas inspiration has been more of a “feeling”, as opposed to specific visual images: I like to think about old-fashioned Christmases. What would Christmas have looked like in an old country farmhouse 100 years ago? It always strikes me as something natural, simple, and cozy. Always cozy! I roll that around in my head, and just imagine how I can keep it simple. From there, I’ll use Pinterest to search for “simple Christmas” or “natural Christmas” ideas. Usually, I come across an image that inspires me, like a naked Christmas tree with just lights, against a window with a candle in it. I think about how I can recreate that look and that cozy feeling of pure happiness and calm that the image elicited.

I’m a music junkie, and Christmas music is no exception! I adore anything Elvis sings, especially his versions of “Here Comes Santa Claus” and “Silver Bells”. Oh, and I can’t leave out “You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch”! I do love that! My favorite Christmas movie is another hard choice. But I’m going to have to say the original How the Grinch Stole Christmas cartoon. And my family never missed watching Rudolph or Frosty on TV. As for my favorite Christmas food, that’s an easy one! Hands down, my mama’s stuffing balls! The recipe was my MawMaw’s, and now my mama carries on the tradition.

This Christmas, despite all the difficulties this year has presented, I am hopeful that we can still celebrate with family. We all might be wearing masks and keeping our social distance, but the room will still be filled with love, happiness, and thankfulness!

Merry & Bright: Christmas with Hayes Cottage

Amy Whyte takes us inside her home filled with vintage Christmas finds and festive good cheer!

I LIVE IN LEESBURG, VIRGINIA WITH MY HUSBAND AND SON, AND OUR THREE DOGS AND NINE CHICKENS. When we first discovered our home in Leesburg, it had been abandoned for 10 years and was in very rough shape. We spent a year fixing it up and moved in 2012. It’s still a work in progress, but I love our home and it’s my favorite place to be. We also have a little cottage in the mountains not far from our home that we are in the process of restoring (@hayes.cottage).

I’ve been part of the Old Lucketts Store since we opened in 1996. At Lucketts, I spend most of my time transforming the Design House, an old farmhouse on the property, with décor and treasures both old and new. I also perform design work on the side.

I love old houses and antique furniture...basically, all things vintage! I have found joy in making spaces beautiful since I was a child. I first started collecting in earnest when I began going to local auctions for my shop. I caught the auction bug fast! There was nothing like the thrill of sorting through rows and rows of treasures at a beautiful old farm. The first thing I started collecting was vintage textiles. I am a textile junkie! Vintage cabbage rose bark cloth, Beacon blankets, old plaid wool blankets, timeworn ticking remnants, classic white pillowcases with sweet crocheted edges... these all make my heart go pitter-pat! For a while, my taste took a turn toward shades of white, but lately I’ve felt a return to my roots of all things color.

My favorite places to hunt for vintage treasures are the Old Lucketts Store and Hip and Humble Interiors in Berryville, Virginia. You never know what you are going to find at either of those places, and they are constantly bringing in fresh stocks of cool old finds at great prices! When I go hunting or picking, I like to make a day of it... I load up all three dogs in the car, hit the local country roads and shops, and try to end the day with a hike at the State Arboretum.

For Christmas, I collect old plaid wool blankets, folky farmhouses, and old toy trucks. I like to decorate for Christmas by bringing greens in from the yard. I take clippings from the pine trees and boxwood shrubs and place them over picture frames or in big bowls around the house. To me, the smell of fresh pine in my home just says Christmas. It’s so simple, and instantly transforms everyday objects into Christmas decor.

For anyone who wants to start collecting, whether at Christmastime or throughout the year, my advice is quite simple: just buy what you love. If it speaks to you, then bring it home! Fill your space with what fills you.

Personally, I don’t feel that I have a particular collecting or decorating style; I just collect what I love. I can say that I am inspired by color and nature. Right now, I’m really into shades of green and brown, and am starting to collect pieces of pottery and transferware in those shades.

My favorite memory of Christmas is a recent one – I love recalling the way we spent the holiday last year. It just didn’t seem right to let our little fixer-upper cottage sit alone on Christmas. So, we packed up a tree, a Crock Pot and a bottle of wine and headed up to the cottage for the day. We clipped branches from the yard and decorated the front door and mantel. We put lights on the tree and made a fire. We had our Crock Pot dinner in deck chairs by the fire. It was simple and quiet and peaceful -- perfect. This year we hope to do the same thing!

— @amycwhyte

Christmas will always be as long as we stand heart to heart and hand in hand.

­— Dr. Seuss

Homestead: Christmas with @underatinroof

Under a Tin Roof (@underatinroof) shares Christmas memories and traditions from the Iowa farm she and her family call home.

GROWING UP, CHRISTMAS WAS A MAGICAL EXPERIENCE MADE UP BY ALL OF ITS SHINY BAUBLES AND ORNAMENTS, the glitter and the flashy wrapping papers. I spent most of my Christmas holidays walking down Michigan Avenue in Chicago and staring with wonder at the decorated windows of Marshall Fields. It was mesmerizing and beautiful to me as a child, and for that, I will always be grateful. Now that I am an adult, I’ve turned to a more simplistic way of living. Christmas is not as shiny and high-strung as before; rather, it feels as if we’ve stepped back in time.

When we bought our Iowa farm several years ago, never having farmed or homesteaded before, we made the decision as a family to live a more sustainable and wholesome lifestyle by cutting out the unnecessary. We loved the idea of an old-fashioned Christmas. You’ll find our packages wrapped in brown paper we’ve saved all year long, our wreaths and garlands are fresh from local farms and our own yard, and we decorate with natural materials that we’ve foraged like pinecones and bittersweet.

We make time for family activities rather than spending all of our time hunting for the perfect gift. While we will still always spend a day or two holiday shopping for the thrill of the season, my hope as a parent is to spend our wintry days baking cookies and sweet breads, decorating the tree, and snuggled up with a warm cup of homemade chocolate listening to a favorite Christmas record. To us, family is everything, and we hope to pass that down to our children as well, when they move on to their own homes and families.

On the homestead, the winter months bring a period of rest. It is about keeping warm. We pile the bedding high in the chicken coop and hang a wreath of evergreens on the door for a touch of fun. The field is tucked in under a blanket of snow and compost to prepare the beds for the spring season. We spend our days by the fire inside, working with our hands yet again on projects we cannot seem to get to when the weather is warm: knitting hats and gloves, decorating our home, and sewing up clothing and quilts. The larder, where we keep the delicious food we grew and preserved over the summer, is slowly but surely emptied ready to be restocked in early summer. Our Christmas supper table is graced by the animals we raised and butchered in the fall, and we say many thanks over what was sacrificed and harvested. Gifts are made with our hands, tied in twine and scrap pieces of fabric. We make new traditions to pass down to our children from the old ones of generations past.

I am not sure that we will ever leave our home here on the farm. Because we live in the beautiful, hilly countryside of southeastern Iowa, we are graced each winter with the gorgeous cover of snow on the rolling fields. We are lucky to live in a place that honors the traditions of older generations, where food is still canned and preserved and cooked upon the stove at home. Christmas makes the place we live even more special, as we gather with friends and neighbors to celebrate the season and say a blessing for the year ahead. I do not know of anything more wondrous and magnificent!

Pass It On: Christmas Cards with Earth Angels Studios

Jen O'Connor educates us on the history of Christmas postcards.

TRADITIONS, ART, AND LITERATURE ARE LADEN WITH BIRDS who carry meaning in the use of their images or are said to bring a message with their appearance.

A favorite Celtic tale documents the annual feud of the Holly King – winter’s Wren, and the Oak King – summer’s Robin, and their exchange of season and power. Another tale tells of the Robin as the bird in the manger who fanned the flames to warm the Christ child, burning his breast red in the effort. And those are just two among a myriad of folkloric tales in which Robins appear. Suffice to say... Robins have earned their place in story and memory.

Antique postcards from the Christmas and winter season often showcase Robins. Indeed, Robins – like the darling red-breasted English Robins on these cards dating from 1901-1916 – are among the birds that have a huge number of symbolic meanings attached to them. Robins are said to mean everything from good luck and spiritual renewal, to representing an omen of change.

The sending of holiday cards was extremely popular in Victorian England where predominantly German-printed cards and postcards were used to send holiday greetings. Interestingly, the mail carriers wore bright red uniforms and were nicknamed “Robins”. In a nod to this and in the whimsy of adding yet another symbol to the Robins who appear at this time of year, artists and illustrators took to adorning holiday cards with Robins; a double-entendre of Robins as messengers of the season in folklore and in the common parlance of the daily mail delivery!

In the United States, printed postcards flourished in the marketplace following the Private Mailing Card Act of Congress, passed in 1898. This made the cost of sending a postcard just one penny—instead of the two-cent letter rate—and allowed private publishers to print cards. German companies made exquisitely printed cards for export and American printers expanded with more readily available lithographic-produced cards that could be purchased and then be stamped with a one-cent stamp sold by the US Postal Service and its agents. With the post delivered twice a day in cities and more populated areas, postcards were much like today’s quick text to confirm a meeting, ask a question or send a note of regard.

Seasonal themed cards proliferated for daily correspondence. They were not used to extend what we think of as traditional season’s greetings, or as formal Christmas cards.  Instead, holiday-themed cards were used for regular correspondence during the holiday season. So, even more than 100 years later, these cards were so common that they are still easy enough to find and remain an affordable seasonal treat and are lovely to collect. They are not only charming in appearance, but a quick read of the messages on them reveals a peek into the daily life of those long ago.

Robins – perhaps because they are so easily identifiable and so prevalent – carry more meaning for many of us than most of their winged counterparts. Setting tale and theory aside, they make a lovely statement of the season’s hues, and herald a vintage-style nod to the lovely tradition of sending a thoughtful greeting.

The Wise Men Smelled Like Smoke

THERE IS AN OLD JOKE THAT ASKS, “do you know why the wise men smelled like smoke?” Of course the answer is, “because they came from afar.” In my area of the country, the word “fire” often sounds more like “far”.

Another version of the joke tells of the traveler passing through a small town during the Christmas season. This particular town had the tradition of displaying a live nativity scene on the city square. The traveler stopped to admire the scene and reflect on the real meaning of Christmas but found this scene to be a bit different from normal. The “usual suspects” were on display: Mary, Joseph, Baby Jesus, an angel, shepherds and even a donkey and a sheep. What made this a most unique nativity scene was the presence of three firefighters, all decked out in their bunker gear. The visitor turned to a local and inquired as to the reason for having firefighters in the display of the Holy Birth. The local fellow answered, “Why, stranger, don’t you recognize them? They are the wise men.” To that, the traveler responded, “The wise men? Why are they in firefighting gear?” “Don’t you know your Bible? It plainly says ‘they came from afar.’”

This leads to my small town and church Christmas pageants. No, we didn’t exactly replay “The Best Christmas Pageant Ever” with the Herdmans, but we did have a similar version one year.

My hometown boasted a population of 300 in the 1960s and that figure hasn’t changed much since. Although small in number of people, there have always been an abundance of small churches. My home is Centertown United Methodist Church. Much like our town, my congregation is relatively small in number. That never hindered the production of a Christmas pageant each year.

The year was about 1964 or ‘65, as I recall. I was about 10 years old and not quite old enough to be a member of what was then known as MYF (Methodist Youth Fellowship) so I landed a lesser role in the play. I think that was the year I had a non-speaking part as an angel in the nativity scene that unfolded as the program progressed. My older brother, Ronnie, played the innkeeper. He was 16 and probably thought he had outgrown church Christmas plays and was “too busy” to bother with rehearsals. The night of the production he did show up and gave the performance of a lifetime…all without rehearsals and therefore, ad lib. It was truly a great performance that nearly stole the show.

Remember, I said nearly. My sister, Janet, played the role of Mary. Her best friend, Vicky, was the angel who appeared to Mary. “Hell, Mary!” she exclaimed. As you can imagine, that had the entire cast in stitches every rehearsal. She, of course, was supposed to say “Hail, Mary!” but it always came out like “hell”. Rehearsals invariably had a friendly argument between Mary and the angel.

“Vicky! The word is hail, not hell.”

“That’s what I’m saying. ‘Hell’, Mary.”

That went on for a couple of rounds before an adult stepped in to move forward with rehearsal. All the while we younger kids were taking our places in the manger scene at the appropriate point in the story. As most 7-11 year olds, we found it difficult to keep from giggling all the time anyway. Our angel proclaiming hell and our ad lib proficient innkeeper only gave us fodder for laughter.

We made it through the acting portion of the program and then prepared for the grand finale…our youth choir concert. We prepared several traditional Christmas carols and had settled into a more serious mood. A couple of ladies had taken sheets of crepe paper and made choir robes for all the young people. We assembled in the pulpit area and arranged ourselves into the practiced formation of a Christmas tree. A few select “branches” carried small candles to serve as lights on the tree. All went well as we sang “Away in a Manger” and “Silent Night” in our best angelic voices. The candle-bearers had been well-coached and no candle came close to the paper robes. Since I was one of the younger and smaller singers, I didn’t carry a candle.

A fellow classmate of mine, Kathy, did, however. She stood behind me and followed directions carefully. She did not let her candle get near her robe nor mine. She held it high enough to be seen but by the time we sang “sleep in heavenly peace” the final time, her arm apparently got tired and she had lowered her candle to a point right behind my head…and a bit too close. My hair, in some recollections, caught fire. Mom played piano for us and as soon as the last note was played she saw what was happening. She quickly jumped up and “patted” my head to keep the fire from burning my scalp. I didn’t realize what had happened but did notice an odd smell. Although my head didn’t actually burst into flames, it did singe the hair on the back of my head enough that I had quite a bald spot for some time.

Needless to say, now we never use real candles in such a manner. Our Christmas pageants may not have as much flair (or maybe that should be flare) but the tradition of small town church Christmas plays continues. Strains of “Away in a Manger” and “Silent Night” often mix with more contemporary carols but the spirit stays the same. We all probably grumbled about having to be in those productions each year but I’m willing to bet every one of us will have to admit that some of our best childhood memories center on those rehearsals and presentations…complete with shepherds in bathrooms.

I may not have been a wise man/woman but I definitely smelled like smoke!

The Best Santa

A love of Santas becomes a collection. By Sharon Schwalbach

Santa Photo: @ryaninmanphoto

YEARS AGO, I’M THINKING AROUND 40 YEARS OR SO, MOST EVERYONE HAD SOME SORT OF COLLECTION, SPECIFIC COLLECTIONS. Some collected salt dips or butter molds, maybe baskets or pewter. It wasn’t so much like the collections of today where you have a few of a special type of antique or vintage item that you choose selectively to add to your home, I’m talking a collection. I think that might be defined as many, like maybe a hundred or more. I know many of you remember those days, and for those of you who don’t, it was real. I chose to collect Santas and all who knew that seemed to find one more unique than the one before, just for me. I purchased some myself but many of them were gifted to me by family and friends. Each year I emptied a big cupboard to make room for them all to be displayed. I found so much joy each year in unwrapping each one and remembering where he was discovered or who gifted him to me.

There were so many Santas that held a special meaning, invoking thoughts of those who had gifted each one. Some were more special than others, much like many things to all of us, but one of my Santas was the most special of all. My Dad was always on a mission to find me an antique that he knew I would love, and he was so very good at it. From a wonderful old Hoosier cupboard and later the bread board with the shoofly to display on such cupboard. The two of us were junking when I purchased my very first memorable antique, a #3 salt glaze bee sting crock. I was 18, didn’t really have the $5 they were asking. Dad offered them $4. They accepted and that crock is a treasure to me still today.

I still hold dear the memory of the day he dropped in with the brown paper bag, handing it to me with a grin and an “I think you’ll like it”. I opened with anticipation.  A bit tattered and torn. A smudge of age here and there. An arm with a bell in the hand that no longer was able to animate as the motor was worn out. Shiny little black boots and the sweetest of faces. His beard was less than perfect and his cap a bit askew but to me he was the most perfectly beautiful Santa I had ever seen.

Each Christmas I take this special Santa from the tissue he’s wrapped in and most often a tear falls.  He finds a special place to sit to enable him to view those who surround him and all the holiday happenings. The happenings of a family enjoying life and its offerings. A son and daughter, the grands and all the extensions. A family who misses their Patriarch, each and every day, but most especially over the Holidays. Thirty years have passed and Dad has been gone 25 of those 30 years. He left us at 62 years young. He spent his last Christmas in the ICU waiting for a heart transplant, a heart he would never receive. I like to believe that there just wasn’t one out there quite good enough for him. Yes, that’s what I believe. I also believe that somehow through the eyes of my special Santa, Dad sees it all and the love he created. Through the eyes of that tattered and torn, but still so perfect Santa with the sweetest of faces. The Santa gifted to a daughter who loved him more. The Best Santa ever.

Eliza Meets Santa: Christmas with Christie Jones Ray

a Christmas story by Christie Jones Ray

THERE WAS A VISIT TO NEW YORK CITY FOR ELIZA THE MOUSE to attend a performance of the The Nutcracker Ballet. She had always dreamed of being a ballerina, but alas, her feet were too wide, her ears were too big, and as hard as she tried, she could not twirl. But oh how she had loved watching the dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy...and would dream big dreams sleeping in the ballet slippers worn by a real ballerina.

The next day, we made our way to the Plaza Hotel to see Santa Claus. Little Eliza had quite a conversation with Santa, sitting in his gloved hand, whispering into his ear all her hopes and dreams...her pink whiskers mingling with his whiskers of white.

I enjoyed a conversation with that jolly elf, myself. We sat upon the chaise, there, talking for quite some time, and I found myself believing in him all over again. Upon our arrival back home to Tennessee, I relayed to my friends and family, “this Santa is the REAL one!” He had listened to me tell all about my toy mouse...for it really is all about her....and I had given him my card.

I didn’t need his, because we ALL know where to find HIM! Anyway, I shared that we lived in Franklin, Tennessee, and silly me, asked if he had ever been there, to which he replied “I’ve been everywhere...” Well goodness gracious, of course he has!

We had been fortunate to have such a long chat as it was mid-afternoon, and there was a lull in the stream of visitors. He was smitten with Eliza and told the photographer to make sure she could see her. To my delight, he had been the one to ask to hold her. As I reflect upon that visit, I wonder...do we all just turn into little girls and boys when we sit and talk with Santa? He was as wonderful as all of you have always hoped he’d be!

What a magical time we enjoyed there in the city that never sleeps...where little girl dreams do come true at Christmas.

This is the illustration I created based on the photo of that visit, and it is included in the pages of my book, Eliza Visits the Ballet. — christiejonesray.com

The Side Room Closet

A PIECE BY ALICE HALE ADAMS

FANNIE LEE CELEBRATED HER SIXTH BIRTHDAY IN THE WEEKS BEFORE CHRISTMAS, 1924. The excitement in the house was mirrored in her face, the joy exhibited in her inability to be still.

Her mother had spent weeks preparing for Christmas. The candy was sealed in tins, pink and white divinity, chocolate, peanut butter, and vanilla fudge, and caramels. Cookies were layered between sheets of waxed paper and a coconut cake sat waiting in the cellar.

December 21st was the day the tree was cut and brought to the house. Papa chopped off the big limbs at the base of the tree. Fannie Lee and her older brother, Wellington, helped him place the tree into a bucket filled with small rocks, dense enough to hold the tree upright and allow for watering. The window at the front of the house, far enough from the fireplace to avoid sparks, was chosen as the place to show off the Christmas tree.

Their house contained five rooms: a living room, two bedrooms, a kitchen and the side room, as well as a screened back porch. The front porch reached across the living room and front bedroom.

Mama used a little closet off the side room as a hiding place for the tins of candy and boxes of cookies. Tall shelves hid the Christmas presents that had been purchased for the children. Outside in the cellar, along with the coconut cake, Mama had wrapped apples and oranges in brown paper and tobacco leaves.

Fannie Lee was curious about hidden things. If she found herself alone in the house for a few minutes she immediately began searching for the candy and cookies she knew her Mama had made and put away for Christmas. Tiptoeing through the front bedroom, she looked in the dresser drawers and under the bed. Disappointed, she slipped into the side room, peeking behind the sideboard doors.

She rarely had more than a short time to look, but finally the day came when she wandered into the closet. Immediately, she could tell by the aroma that she had found the sweets. Listening for Mama, she picked through the tins on the shelves. Climbing into a chair, she reached as far as her arm would reach and felt the tin boxes on the top shelf.

Joy filled her heart but she had to shove the box back as she heard the back door open and slam shut. She sauntered into the kitchen, acting as innocent as a baby.

The next time Fannie Lee found herself alone she dashed into the closet, climbed on the chair, pulled down the box, opened the lid, and ate one piece of chocolate fudge. It melted in her mouth. Shivers ran down her spine.

She became braver and slipped into the closet even when she was not alone in the house. She was very quiet, scooting the chair across the floor without a sound, climbing up and getting a piece of candy. She ate a different kind each time so there would be some of each left for Christmas. But soon she could tell the box was less full and she felt afraid. She put the candy box back on the shelf, vowing not to eat another piece. Then she found the cookies.

She could hardly contain herself. She loved cookies better than anything, even better than the candy. It was hard to get them out of the wrapping without messing up the whole container but she just had to eat some. She took one of each kind, put them in her pocket, returned the container to the shelf, and went to the corner of the side room to eat them. They were glorious. 

On Christmas Eve morning, Fannie Lee began to worry about eating the candy and cookies. She knew her mother would be opening the boxes for everyone to share. Maybe it would be Christmas Day before they would eat the sweets. Would she get a whipping?

Much to her relief, Christmas Eve night came and it was time to go to bed. The cookies and candy were still on the shelf in the little closet. But with the excitement of Christmas and being nervous about eating the sweets, Fannie Lee couldn’t sleep. For a while, she cried. Then she decided she wouldn’t be in trouble since it was Christmas and she felt good and excited. It wasn’t long until she cried some more.

She pretended to be sleeping when Mama came to her bed. She didn’t move at all, although it was hard to be still.

Soon after Mama left the room she could hear soft noises coming from the direction of the Christmas tree. Could it be Santa? She just couldn’t stay in bed. She crept as quiet as a mouse across the floor to the door, which had been left slightly open. The lamp was burning in the living room, making big shadows that willowed like ghosts on the walls.

Fannie Lee was scared, but not enough to make her go back to bed.

Her heart nearly stopped when she saw her Mama hanging presents on the Christmas tree, a little truck and a bag of blocks for Wellington, and for her a blue lamp with a clear glass chimney. It was just the right size to sit on the table in her playhouse. It was perfect.

Fannie Lee didn’t think she could be any happier when, to her surprise, Mama tied a doll on the tree. It wore a blue checked dress and small black shoes and white socks. It was the most beautiful doll she had ever seen.

She watched as Mama went to the closet to get the candy and cookies. Fear gripped her chest. Mama opened the boxes. Fannie Lee heard her sigh and watched her shake her head. Mama spread the candy and cookies on white plates, set them on the table beside the tree, and covered them with a clean cloth. Then she went to bed.

Fannie Lee hurried to her bed. She stayed awake as long as she could, thinking of the doll and lamp. It only seemed like minutes before Wellington woke her up to come to see what had been left for them.

They gathered their presents from the tree, jumping up and down and squealing. Mama and Papa sat in their chairs by the fireplace, watching.

After they settled down to play with their toys, Mama passed around the plates of cookies and candy. When she handed them to Fannie Lee, she winked at her and smiled.

Mazzarino Family Struffoli

  BY STACY MAZZARINO CURRIE

I WAS BROUGHT UP IN A TRADITIONAL ITALIAN AMERICAN HOME AND FOLLOW MANY ITALIAN TRADITIONS, like the Feast of the Seven Fishes on Christmas Eve, attending Midnight Mass, and of course making Struffoli, also known as Honey Balls. They are light, crispy little balls of deep fried dough, drenched in Honey and topped with colorful sprinkles. My family and I would gather around the kitchen table to make them together. Christmas music on the radio and elbow deep in flour, my dad and grandma would roll out the dough into thin strips, my brother and I would cut and roll the dough into balls and my mom would fry them. We used to fight over who would add the sprinkles at the end, and that’s still my favorite part! There was never a shortage of laughter and memory making, and 40 years later, we still carry on the tradition with our children. From generation to generation we continue to make memories and share our delicious treats with friends and family. My daughter Allie and my niece Segi particularly love these sweet treats and my niece asks to bake them throughout the year.

STRUFFOLI RECIPE

4 Cups Flour

Pinch of salt

6 Eggs

1 tsp Baking Powder

1 ½ tsp. Vanilla Extract

1 Jar Honey

Colorful Nonpareils/Sprinkles

Oil for frying

*Optional: Zest of an Orange

Combine flour, salt, eggs, baking powder, vanilla and zest together. Break off pieces and roll into long strips about 1/4 inch thick. Cut the strips into pieces and roll into little balls about the size of a small marble. Heat oil in a dutch oven and fry the balls in batches until puffed and golden brown. Drain on paper towels. Once they are all fried, heat honey in a small saucepan and pour over the balls, and immediately sprinkle with nonpareils. These stay nicely in a sealed container for up to a week.

When I think of Christmas I always think of Struffoli, a very sweet memory for our family. Though this year we will be making them in our separate houses, we will still carry on the tradition, together on Zoom.

Sweet Christmas Traditions with @tifforelie

an essay by Tiffany Mitchell

CHRISTMAS IS A TIME FOR TRADITIONS.  I grew up in a two family home in the suburbs of northeastern New Jersey where Christmas was the event of the year.  Birthdays were fun, Thanksgiving was exciting, but Christmas was the big deal - the major deal.  Our traditions started on Christmas Eve.  The whole family would gather at my aunt’s house where we would play games, eat, do the “cousins grab bag”, eat some more, and sing Happy Birthday to my aunt (who was born on Christmas Eve).  At midnight, everyone would trek out to the front yard in the freezing cold where we would complete the nativity scene with a baby doll and sing Happy Birthday to Jesus.  We would then sing carols until us “kids” began sneaking off one by one either out of fatigue, or the desire to avoid scaring any more of the neighbors.

Getting home from the Christmas Eve party was a tradition in and of itself.  Whoever snuck away first would arrive at the house and ascend the stairs to our second story living room where they would be met with the warm glow of a fully decorated Christmas tree and the familiar scent of pine needles.  Christmas morning was only hours away and even though as adults we don’t experience it the same way we did when we were kids, it’s somehow just as magical.

I’ve always been the first to wake up on Christmas morning.  My mom had a rule not to wake her until 7:30, so my 3 siblings and I would tackle the stockings while we waited for her to join us.  Once we were all up, we would open one gift each (in age order) until we ran out of presents.  At that point we were both starving and exhausted, so lots of eating and napping followed.

We’ve done the same thing every year for as long as I can remember.  Without those traditions, I don’t think Christmas would have been the grand occasion my family made of it.  When my husband and I moved to Lexington a year ago, we had only been married 2 years and were looking to start holiday traditions of our own.  This will be our 4th Christmas together and it still feels like we’re starting from square one.  Maybe it takes a few years before a tradition actually starts to take root.

Each year we’ve added something new.  The first year it was visiting our families.  The second year it was making hot cocoa from scratch.  Last year we visited our families, made the cocoa and took funny Christmas card pictures of our cat.  This year we’ll be adding something to complement the cocoa - sugar cookies!  Our traditions seem so simple, but I guess that’s how all great traditions start out, right?

Bringing Back the Magic of Christmas

An essay by Melissa McArdle

WHEN SHE THINKS OF CHRISTMAS, I want shimmering stars, scents of evergreen, warm cups of hot chocolate, and rooms filled with jolly laughter to fill her mind. Cozy blankets wrapped around our shoulders as we read classic tales beside the roaring flames of a burning fire. The tingling trace of pure peppermint oil as she continuously licks the stick of chalky peppermint candy, the old-fashioned kind that my great-grandfather used to fill his shirt pocket with and hand out as if we won the jackpot of tasty bliss. Afternoons spent in the kitchen preparing baked goods with our own hands, chasing flour clouds in the air, decorating our noses with buttercream icing, and giggling non-stop from the sugar high. Choosing the tree we know needs the most tender loving care because no one else would have it…channeling A Charlie Brown Christmas. Creating gifts for those we love, cherish and hold dear to our hearts, gifts that mean something and have a story we want to share. Decorating our tree with offerings from nature, garland strung of cranberries, pinecones hand-painted with glitter, leaves gilded golden, and mistletoe hung in all the right places.

Christmas is meant to be magical. The very roots of Christmas are considered other-worldly. When did we lose touch with this magic? For me, it is vital to plant the seeds of wonderland in her mind, fill her thoughts and soul with the simple beauties of giving with love, receiving with pure gratitude, and absorbing the true essence of the season. A season meant to be filled with joy and peace. She is young, she is impressionable, and now is the time to engrave the pureness of Christmas onto her heart. Lists can be made, but let’s allow those lists to be filled with good tidings, wishes for others and special achievements, and prayers of hope for better tomorrows. She is my one and only, and I have vowed to bring back the magic of Christmas. So far, her enthusiasm for painting cut-out stars, singing “O Holy Night”, and running with wild abandon through a Christmas tree farm lead me to believe I’m on the right track.

O Christmas Tree

A lifetime of plastic-fake Christmas trees makes way for the annual Christmas tree cutting trip.

IN KENTUCKY, YOU DON’T REALLY HAVE THE LUXURY OF FRESH CHRISTMAS TREES. The stories I’ve heard about people going out to the old mine lands and cutting a cedar tree truly confuse me. Every cedar tree I’ve ever known has bent and bowed with the addition of even the lightest ornament or light. I’ve also learned that pine trees, while pretty, aren’t particularly shaped to be a Christmas tree. Beyond those two imperfect choices, you are pretty much left with “fake” down here in the Bluegrass State. Today, the options for fake trees are endless, but twenty years ago, the stereotypical cone-shaped green fake tree was all that could be found.

I believe there is a real science to fake Christmas tree development.  Right now, as you read this, there is someone in a lab (yes, a literal laboratory) creating more advanced fake Christmas tree varieties and technologies. In some small way, those people will change the world. However, on countless farms across the country at this very minute families are celebrating the time-honored tradition of cutting their family Christmas trees. In a world where chocolate and vanilla soft serve can swirl out of the same machine, I believe we have a place for both fake and real Christmas trees. This year I have already put up ten fake trees, and before it is over there will be at least one real one in the mix.

I grew up in the 90s with strictly the fake variety of Christmas tree, for the reasons explained above. In Kentucky, we simply didn’t have fresh tree farms, and even the Boy Scouts quit selling them down in front of the grocery stores sometime around 2000. Ours was a Walmart special bought in 1994 at the Walmart that is now a Mexican restaurant in town. It claims to be a six-foot tree, according to its box, but you and I both know it is a five-foot tree at the very most. That extra foot of alleged height only comes into play if you stretch, pull, and fluff that long branch on the very top like Alfalfa’s hair in The Little Rascals. That tree is currently displayed next to a bright green velvet sectional in my backroom. It is looking rough after twenty-five years, but is still going strong.

There is one place in our town that does sell live Christmas trees, but they truck them in from Alabama, which feels weird to me. I’ve only ever bought one tree from there, but I do highly recommend their fruit baskets. However, each year I do buy a live tree, be it at a random tree farm out in the country or somewhere in the Catskills. I wouldn’t say I am a Christmas tree expert by any means, but I have learned a few things over the years.

My first lesson, and one I still don’t fully understand the logic of, was the lesson I learned the year I cut down a tree for a photoshoot, but forgot that I had to actually buy it. Somewhere it escaped me that I had to take the tree home with me until it was being stuffed into my car for the forthcoming two-hour drive. I’m not sure whatever happened to that tree. I think we ended up keeping it until June to use for crafts.  I guess the moral of the story is, make sure you have the right vehicle to transport your tree home, and a place to put it once you get there.

Another lesson was: just don’t buy a blue spruce. One year before I knew better, I was really specific that I wanted a tree that looked like it belonged in Martha Stewart Living. For the record, blue spruce isn’t one of those, but I was cold and hungry and just ready to cut anything I saw. If a porcupine could be made into a Christmas tree, it would be a blue spruce. Spruce needles became literal needles as they dried. Skip the blue spruce. Just skip the blue spruce.

There is something magical about a live Christmas tree. It is equal parts nostalgia for the images of the past, and the general peer pressure that the perfect Christmas must include a live Christmas tree. Homespun Christmas trees bedecked with homemade ornaments and shiny glass balls fill the photos of the past, making us feel that to achieve the perfect Christmas, we must have our own photo-worthy tree.

If I were to offer any form of advice for cutting a live tree it would be to be realistic about the size, and to measure – both your home and your potential tree. Your living room is a much smaller scale than what a tree looks like on a farm. It is way too easy to end up cutting a tree that you think will be perfect in your living room with its eight-foot ceilings, only to find you’ve cut a ten-foot tree.

I do believe that there is magic in the annual trip to the tree farm: the search for the perfect tree, the thrill of cutting it yourself using the hand saw, carrying it to that silly little machine that cuts off all the extra branches and wraps it in netting, and figuring out how to best secure the tree to your roof with the hope it won’t launch into oncoming traffic, Final Destination-style, as you head down the New York State Thruway at ninety miles an hour. The magic is especially tangible in those years when snow is on the ground, the sky is grey, and the chilly weather is just right. The year I took these photos we were lucky enough to find that true magic. These were taken at Bell’s Tree Christmas Tree Farm near Accord, New York.

I used to believe that a tree had to look perfect; it had to be Martha Stewart Living-level perfection. Yes, that is a common theme in my belief systems. Over the years though, I’ve realized I like trees that just feel good. Over-the-top trees that look like art installations or a clearance sale at the Hobby Lobby are fantastic and awe-inspiring, but I think the magic is in the idea that the tree is an altar to all the ornaments and memories it supports.

Many of us get lost in the quest for the perfect Christmas. We have somehow convinced ourselves that everything has to be across-the-board perfect. For many of us, we also don’t have a clue what that perfection looks like, yet we ruin the season and the holiday while on that fruitless quest. We are just racing and searching for a goal that isn’t even real. I’ve learned that Christmas is a season much more than it is a day. It is a vestige of an era where we lived slow, lived authentically, lived within our communities, and lived as families and neighbors. Christmas, in my opinion, extends well beyond the religious connotations that are oftentimes connected with it, and represents a more universal set of ideals. I’ve learned that for me, the secret to enjoying Christmas is stripping away the pomp and circumstance of perfection and truly enjoying what makes you happy during the season…be it 50 pounds of pralines and fudge, a half-dozen fake Christmas trees, an endless supply of Cozy Cabin sweaters and socks, sneaking candies from tins in the side room, seeing Santa up on the top floor at Macy’s after a stroll through Rockefeller Plaza, a trip to the Christmas tree farm, retelling the stories of cussing angels, sending cards, or simply enjoying the season with family and friends.

This year, whether it be a brand new fake tree, a worn-out fake tree, a grocery store variety “live” tree, or a freshly-cut farm tree, I urge everyone to create a Christmas tree and a Christmas season that make you happy, but for the love of God, don’t get a blue spruce.

Hillenmeyer Christmas Shop

Hillenmeyer Christmas Shop, a fun and family-friendly experience where the nostalgia of the past meets today's Christmas traditions, is opening its doors for another holiday season starting late November each year.

Inspired by yuletides of yesteryear, Hillenmeyer Christmas Shop invites guests to enjoy hot cider, marshmallow roasting, animals, a vintage sleigh and visits from Santa. Visitors are welcomed by the smell of fresh pine and holiday spices as they discover an extensive assortment of freshly cut trees, custom wreaths, garlands and more. Partnering with hand-selected regional merchants and growers allows the shop to provide the freshest greens and quality goods available.

Since 1950, the Hillenmeyer family has been providing a Christmas experience for Lexington. A family-owned business, today Hillenmeyer Christmas Shop is owned and operated by husband and wife team, Joseph and Shannon Hillenmeyer, whose vision is to bring holiday traditions to life for generations of families. Steeped in local heritage, a visit to Hillenmeyer Christmas Shop transports guests to a simpler time while bringing families together in celebration of the season. Offering a unique and eclectic experience, visitors will find cups of hot cider to enjoy along with a fireplace where bags of marshmallows are ready for roasting. Inviting families to enjoy themselves leisurely, children can visit the live nativity scene and even pet the shop’s sheep and donkeys. A large vintage sleigh, originally belonging to Joseph Hillenmeyer’s great-great grandfather, sits within to create the perfect opportunity for family photos. And occasionally, Santa comes to visit and listen to children’s Christmas wishes while spreading holiday cheer among visitors.

Guests can visit Hillenmeyer Christmas Shop at 3389 Tates Creek Road, Lexington, Kentucky 40502 where it is open Monday through Saturday from 10am to 8pm and Sunday from 11am to 8pm. For further information and a compete schedule of activities, please visit http://hillenmeyerchristmas.com