Holidays – Page 2 – All It Takes Is A Little Love

Magical

Published on March 23, 2017March 20, 2017 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

download I’ve been retired from a four decades career in education for almost six years and I still can’t seem to avoid following the academic calendar. Perhaps it’s because a school bus stops in front of my home each morning to pick up the neighborhood children and I am daily reminded that the process of educating our youth has endures with or without me. Maybe it’s because I still tutor students twice a week at two different schools and in the evenings. I suspect that it’s mostly because I followed the August to June routine for so long that it has become embedded in the heart and soul of who I am. So it is that I continue to immerse myself in spring break rituals each year even though that special week for students and teachers shouldn’t make much difference to me now that I am free to do whatever I wish whenever I wish.

I made no plans for the annual March respite this year and yet the serendipity of my activities made it one of the most memorable and relaxing weeks that I have experienced in all of my years of partaking of the annual spring fling. It began with an evening track meet in which grandson Eli broke the district record for the 1600 meter run. Watching him plying his craft is akin to viewing a gazelle. His form is a breathtaking sight of beauty. Even better is his determination to continually compete with himself to be his personal best. I am in awe of him and watching him on that night was magical just as the rest of my spring break adventure would prove to be.

Husband Mike and I traveled to bluebonnet country the following day, enjoying the lovely blue carpets of the state flower that are so glorious each spring. We had bonafide Texas barbecue and sampled fruit kolaches that warmed the Slovakian half of my heart. We walked among the rows and rows of flowers at the Rose Emporium and brought home two more gorgeous bushes to join the collection that we already have. It was one of those absolutely perfect days that reminded me just how much I truly love the people and the sights of the place I call home.

The weather took one of those unexpected dips in temperature a day or so later just as it always seems to do this time of year. It was a perfect moment for making paprika stew for my grandson Andrew who had arrived for a sojourn from his studies at Purdue University. We had one of those old fashioned Sunday night dinners with him and his family. We caught up on all of his news and lingered at the dining table with stories and lots of laughs, ending our meal with pies that we had purchased at a bakery in a small town known for its sausages, baked goods and ice cream. It felt good to fill the house with our children and grandchildren. It had been quite some time since they had been able to steal a few hours from their busy school time schedules. Not wanting to end the joyful feeling of the evening we all agreed meet up again the following day for a musical light show at the Burke Baker Planetarium followed by dinner in Rice Village.

Just when it appeared that I would return to a somewhat uneventful week my granddaughter Abby who lives in San Antonio called me to request my presence at her home for the next few days. Mike had things to do, like taxes (ugh), so I hit the open road on my own. The drive has become second nature to me since my daughter moved there a little over ten years ago. I break down the distance into discrete parts that tell me that I am moving ever closer to the other half of my ever growing family. The weather was spectacular much as it generally is in March. The bluebonnets were even more profuse than they had been only days before and now they had been joined by the red Indian paintbrushes that shouted out, “This is Texas at its very best!”

My daughter is about to move to a new home so she was busy sorting and packing belongings while I was there. She reluctantly took a small slice of time to join us for gourmet burgers and milkshakes at Hopdoddy as well as a round of bowling at a rather unique emporium. Afterward we played board games and watched old Star Wars movies until late into the night. It felt so much like the kind of activities that we used to enjoy back when we my daughters were just girls and we spent our spring break time chilling out and enjoying life in slow motion.

While my daughter returned to her duties the children and I continued our adventures with a visit to a small hill country town called Boerne where we found treasures in the many different antique shops, including a slightly damaged kachina doll that grandson William named Footless Fred. We laughed with delight as we scored a tiny house fit for the gnome garden that the kids are designing, an old Stars Wars book, a poncho, and a set of quilted placemats. We ended our day with a side trip to Guadelupe River State Park where we skipped rocks and told one silly joke after another.

It was with a certain level of reluctance that I headed back home toward the end of the week, but the kids had things to do that they had been putting off while I was in there. I too needed to get back to reality, but not until I enjoyed what may well have been the most magical day of my spring break.

Mike and I began the final Saturday of my mini vacation by meeting Andrew once again for a farewell lunch. He looked so happy, rested and ready to tackle the next six weeks at Purdue. Like me had had been energized by the people and places that he most loves. He had an optimistic and determined twinkle in his eyes and I felt quite comfortable sending him off to joust with his challenging engineering and mathematics classes. He will be halfway through his collegiate journey by May. He sees the light at the end of the tunnel and it is a beautiful experience to listen to him voice very adult and wise pronouncements about the future and life in general.

From our sojourn with Andrew we traveled to the home of one of my former students, a young man named Bieu. We have known each other for well over twenty years now and he faithfully maintains a constant connection with me just as he promised he would when he was just a boy in my math class. On this day he was hosting a crawfish boil, another March tradition in the Houston area. He had great pots of the lobster like creatures turning a bright delicious red as the water bubbled around them. He cooked potatoes and corn as friends and family enjoyed the cool afternoon in his backyard.

I continue to marvel at what a fine person Bieu has become. I am as proud of him as if he had been my own son. I laugh that he was the one who most closely followed in my father’s footsteps by earning a degree in mechanical engineering from Texas A&M University. I feel quite certain that my dad would have loved Bieu and his family as much as I do had he been around to meet them.

I ended my glorious week that evening at the seventieth birthday party of Josefina Carrillo. She once worked for Mike at a bank in southeast Houston and he insists that she was his best employee ever. I also had the privilege of teaching her daughter Josie at South Houston Intermediate. Because southeast Houston has always been a small and very friendly kind of world the connections to Josefina go even deeper. Her son married the sister of one of my daughter’s best friends from our old neighborhood, so it was like old home week at the gala.

We feasted on fajitas and sipped on margaritas while a mariachi band played “otra mas” tune after another. There was dancing and enough smiles to light up a city. We learned that many of the people who had come to honor Josefina had lived in our old neighborhood and been involved in the same circles that had defined our lives for years. The kinship centered on the birthday girl bonded us all together and we had an incredibly lovely time remembering how many joys and blessings we had all experienced.

As I think back on my week of simple pleasures I realize how lucky I have always been. I not only have happy, healthy children and grandchildren but a host of friends who have brought sunshine into my life over and over again. I thought of how so much of my good fortune came to be because of the time that I have spent in what must surely be the most inviting city anywhere, Houston and its surrounding areas. Where else would I eat New York style pizza, crawfish and Tex Mex all in one day? Where else would I be so welcomed by Vietnamese and Hispanic families within the space of only a few hours. Where else would the people be so hospitable? Where else would I have enjoyed such a magical spring break? Where else would I rather be?

Follow the Star

Published on January 4, 2017January 2, 2017 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

14521142994558_700 It’s the first week of the new year and the holiday decorations are gone. Stores are filled with valentines and spring colors. It’s time to move on to the next phase of our annual celebratory calendar. So much for Christmas traditions. We have better things to do than linger over a long drawn out yuletide. Besides, we’ll have plenty of time to enjoy tidings of the season when the first hints of the big winter holiday return to our local emporiums somewhere around the end of July. For now it’s time to pack away our memories of Christmas 2016 and plan ahead without sentimentality.

It wasn’t always so. There was a time when we were more likely to follow the lead of our European and South American counterparts who extend the holiday revelry through January 6. The full Christmas story as recalled in the Bible included the arrival of the three wisemen (or kings, if you wish) who followed a star in the east to the stable to honor the newborn who would eventually change the world. In the liturgical calendar that event is remembered on the feast of the Epiphany. In many parts of the world the twelve days of Christmas include holidays and celebrations from December 25 until January 6. The traditions and parties will continue in those places long after we North Americans have stored away our holiday boxes in closets and attics.

When I was growing up my mother always left our Christmas tree in our living room until after January 6. We may have returned to school and work but the warm glow of twinkling lights and the aroma of pine greeted us upon our return home. My brother Michael was born on Three Kings Day so we had a big celebration that included gifts for him and a final opportunity to enjoy the joyfulness of the season. Only after that auspicious occasion did we turn our tree into lumber for the neighborhood fort that the kids always built with recycled firs and pines.

I’m not sure when we changed our ways and became more and more anxious to divest ourselves of the tinsel surrounding Christmas as soon as the sun had set on December 25. Perhaps it is because most women work now rather than keeping the fires burning at home. The pace of our lives is so swift that we need to return to our normal routines without fanfare and we can’t countenance the complications of extraneous accoutrements lingering in our homes for too long. More often than not, most of the things that we associate with Christmas are gone by the end of January 1.

I have a few friends who defer to the traditions of old. They enjoy the trappings of the season well into the middle of January. Their friends and neighbors often view them with a bit of derision and assume that they must be lazy folk rather than traditionalists. In reality they have become rebels of sort in their insistence on following a more leisurely calendar. I have to sadly admit that I left their ranks many years ago because I knew that I would have little time for the luxury of lingering over the holidays once I had to go back to the classroom where I worked.

I was in Austria at the dawn of 2005. I stayed there until after January 6. I noted how the season remained in full bloom throughout the first week of the new year, climaxing in parades of young children moving from house to house dressed as the wise men. The people marked the occasion with lettering on their doors indicating that the children were welcome to come. They passed out treats and ate special meals. The custom was delightful and made me a bit jealous that we did not have such traditions in my own country.

My husband grew up with a Puerto Rican father who followed the ways of his native land. He remembers receiving a special gift on January 6 that did not come from Santa Claus or his parents but from the Three Kings. He says that the Epiphany was as exciting as December 25 in his home. There were prayers and visits to church to honor the miracle of the savior’s birth.

It has been a very long time since I have kept my Christmas spirit alive past January 1. I am always ready to move on with the rest of my neighbors and friends. I usually want to put the clutter of decorations back into storage and focus on my resolutions which tend toward accomplishments rather than reflections. For whatever reason, however, I have found myself wanting to end the season a bit more slowly this year. I like the idea of returning to the traditions of my youth. I have decided to keep my two Christmas trees looking bright and cheery until at least next week. I plan to honor my brother on January 6, just as I always have but also to spend time contemplating the miracle that happened so long ago in Bethlehem. Like the three kings who brought gifts to the Christ child I want to perform more acts of kindness and sacrifice for my fellow man.

The very part of the world where Jesus was born and later preached His message of love is a powder keg today. There is much suffering and uncertainty in the Middle East. In our own country Chicago has become a murder capitol with over seven hundred killed in a single year, many of them innocent children. All of us long for answers to the problems that plague mankind. We want to stop the senseless violence but don’t really know how. Perhaps if we were all to slow down just enough to meditate on why we celebrate each year and why we shouldn’t rush the process, we might find our way once again. By remembering the true meaning of the historic events of over two thousand years ago we may find the keys to spreading the true Christmas spirit across the globe. We don’t need to hurry back to normal. Instead we should extend the generosity of the season for as long as we can. Don’t be so hasty to put it all away. Those lights are a symbol of the powerful force of sacrifice and kindness that we should all strive to emulate regardless of our individual beliefs. Be inspired this year to take the time to go out of your way to follow the star that leads to goodness and joy.

The Silver Lining

Published on December 30, 2016 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

silver-lining Every time I am in the Santa Fe area I make it a point to travel to Chaco Canyon. Getting to that remote national park is difficult. In the last many miles the road becomes so unbearably rugged that I always consider turning back. Since I know what adventure lies ahead I always choose to continue the journey to my destination. I am never disappointed. Chaco Canyon is one of the great wonders of our country and it is worth all of the effort to see it.

The year 2016 has been much like navigating the trail to Chaco Canyon. There have been many potholes and bumps in the last twelve months that made life a bit more difficult that usual but now that I am at the end of the course I can see the breathtaking beauty of my trek. All things considered, 2016 was another wonderful year in my life even though it may not have been quite as spectacular or free from loss as other times have been.

I learned when I was teaching that I should never judge the worth of a day’s work by a single negative incident. There were many times when I felt like a rockstar only to be plummeted to earth by a negative encounter with a difficult student. Early in my career when I still lacked experience and maturity I was overly critical of myself, always seeking perfection and hopelessly disappointed when my teaching was even slightly flawed. I lost my optimism and felt that I was a failure as an educator on many a day. A wise mentor came to my psychological rescue when she suggested that I begin to list both the good and bad aspects of each week in two columns. She assured me that I would almost always have visual proof that my efforts had been far more positive than I had thought. She noted that we humans have a tendency to magnify and remember negativity so much that it often overwhelms the excellence in our lives. In carrying out her suggestion I learned that even in the most frustrating weeks I had always accomplished way more than I had realized. It became my habit to look at the totality of a day, a week, a month or a year before focusing exclusively on the moments that had seemed to threaten my happiness.

Such it has been with 2016. I lost a friend and a very dear cousin during the year. I took a number of unexpected financial hits that strained my pocketbook and forced me to change some of my habits. I was surprised and disappointed by the results of the political primary races in the spring and then the national election itself in the fall. I grew weary and worried about the massive divide that has so torn the citizens of my beloved country apart. I worried about world events that seem to threaten peace. It would be easy for me to write off the last twelve months as a total loss if I were only to think about the things that made me sad and weary but that would be an incomplete analysis of the year. When I take the time to wander through my memories I realize that I was graced with many glorious blessings in 2016.

The year began in Galveston with all of my children and grandchildren. It was too cold for the beach but we spent time playing games, watching football, enjoying Moody Gardens and The Strand. It was fun and best of all I was with the people that I most love. It was really a dream come true because in most years my kids are so busy with other pursuits that I may see them on Christmas Day and not again until February or even March. I will always treasure January 1, 2016 as a very special day when we celebrated together.

On January 6, Mike and I met with a group of friends at Killen’s Steakhouse. The food was certainly a treat but being with Adriana, Tim, Jenny and Eric was the main attraction. I always feel revitalized just being around them and that evening was no exception. In fact it was one of those unforgettable times that bring warm feelings to the surface whenever I stop to remember.

There were the usual family birthday parties for my brothers, sister-in-laws, nieces, nephews, father-in-law, husband, children and grandchildren. All of them were fun and festive and gave us a perfect excuse to clear off our calendars and celebrate the love that so defines “the best family ever.” Perhaps the most extravagant and wonderful of them all was a Harry Potter themed birthday spectacular for one of my nephews who lives in Dallas. There was a quidditch game, a magician, a sorting experience and some of the best food I have ever tasted. As Muggles, Mike and I were in awe of the magic of that evening.

My sister-in-law retired from her work as a NASA contractor and spent many weeks touring in Europe with her sisters. My brother hung up his boots and retired from the Houston Fire Department after a career that spanned his entire adult lifetime. Both of them had gala parties in which we celebrated their dedication and achievements which were numerous. I felt so proud of both of them and excited that they now have the time to pursue their hobbies and to travel to their hearts’ content.

Of course Mike and I went camping and sometimes met up with our friends Monica and Franz in Huntsville or Blanco and enjoyed the solitude and the local sites together. We even traveled with our long time buddies to Colorado and stayed in my brothers’ cabin for a glorious week in the fall. We enjoyed nature’s colors and the art festivals as well as the food and quaint shops. Mostly we realized just how much we love being with our dear friends.

In the summer we took two of our grandchildren William and Abby on a grand excursion in our trailer. We reveled in the sights from Santa Fe to San Diego. We took that terrible road to Chaco Canyon and almost baked in the punishing summer sun but were enthralled by the powerful images of a past long gone. We stood over the rim of Grand Canyon at sunset and marveled at the beauty of Sedona. We escaped into a world of make believe at Universal Studios in Los Angeles and spent an entire day slathering our bodies with sunscreen at the beach. We sat under a clear sky and watched the stars in the Davis Mountains. We realized how vast and beautiful the United States truly is.

In October I met with many of my high school friends in a fifty year reunion. It was wonderful to see so many of the people with whom I had spent four years of my young life. They each had special stories to tell and even though the evening flew by with the pace of speed dating I walked away with renewed friendships and a glorious feeling that we had all learned our life lessons well. The people there were good and honest folk just as our teachers had wanted us to be.

There were glorious graduations. My cousin earned an advanced degree and a number of my former students became the first in their families to hold bachelor degrees. I gave a party for those who graduated in May and together we celebrated their stunning accomplishments. I felt a sense of pride in knowing how dedicated they had been and what wonderful futures they would surely enjoy.

I watched my grandchildren perform in musicals and plays, in swim meets and cross country competitions, in robotics games and concerts. I realized even more than ever how gifted and talented and hard working they truly are. I understood that in those moments when I don’t get to see them they are busy charting their own trails that will most assuredly lead them to achieving the goals and the dreams that they have designed for themselves. They will be ready to accept the challenges of the future and be the generation that keeps the faith in our family values.

I met with friends and family and former students throughout the year and truly enjoyed those quiet moments when we conversed and considered the challenges of the world. One particularly fun evening was spent with a large group of women laughing at the antics of less than perfect moters in the movie Bad Moms. The film reminded all of us to be kind to ourselves.

It was in the laughter and the love of friends and family that 2016 was transformed from a frustrating year to one that brought me enough happiness and satisfaction to make me optimistic about life and the world in which we live. Those bumps in the road were a mere disturbance far outweighed by the spectacular moments that happened when I least expected.

Happy New Year to everyone. May 2017 bring each of you the love and the happiness and the simple pleasures that make each day just a bit brighter. Look for the silver lining even on the cloudiest of days.

Christmas Magic

Published on December 23, 2016December 19, 2016 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

It is two days before Christmas and my head is filled with many random thoughts. I was thinking about the live trees that everyone used to have back when I was a child. They were so much fun but invariably half of my family would be ill by Christmas Eve. Little did we realize that we were actually allergic to the lovely natural aroma of pine or fir that filled the air. Once the artificial varieties became available there was no turning back for us. We finally found out what it was like to feel good for the holidays.

In an effort to reproduce the feeling of my childhood days I purchased a scented wax chunk in Colorado when I visited there in the fall. I thought it might be fun to have the illusion of having a real tree with the essence of pine wafting through the air. I decided to burn it this past weekend and within about thirty minutes my head was aching and my throat had begun to close. My nose was running and my eyes were watering. I suppose that I’m just not going to create a forest-like atmosphere in my home ever again. It was sad to realize that my body won’t tolerate that wonderful smell of a Christmas forest.

During the brief moments when my house felt more like my younger days I began to reminisce. I suspect that there is always that one special Christmas gift that remains magical even sixty years later. For me it was finding a bicycle in front of the Christmas tree when I was seven years old. Santa got everything right about that bike from the basket mounted on the handlebars to the color. It was love at first sight and I could hardly wait to change out of my pajamas and get outside to give it a test drive. I felt very grown up because it didn’t come with training wheels. Santa assumed that I would be able to learn how to balance and pedal without any problems. It made me happy that he had so much confidence in me.

My father was my official coach. He held the bicycle up while I climbed on and ran along beside me until I had picked up enough speed to stay upright. The first few times I crashed almost immediately and even skinned my knee. I was beginning to wonder if I would ever be able to master the art of riding but I was too embarrassed to admit defeat so I kept climbing right back onto the seat and trying again and again. Daddy encouraged me and gave me tips about how to improve. Just when I thought that I was never going to overcome my cycling inadequacies my father let go and I kept going. I even turned around and headed back to him. I suspect that I had one of the biggest grins of my lifetime. I can’t remember another time that I felt so proud of my accomplishments.

That bike would become my constant companion. It took me on adventures and saved me from boredom. I eventually learned how to perform tricks like standing on the seat while holding one leg in the air or letting go of the handlebars while still moving forward. I’m not sure what ultimately became of it. I suppose that I simply outgrew it one day and my mother no doubt sent it to wherever old bikes go.

There really is nothing quite like those childhood days when Santa comes in the middle of the night while children sleep. It is so breathtaking to find the wondrous toys waiting in the morning. I can still see the roller skates and the dolls in the glow of the multi-colored lights. I envision the oranges and nuts that were invariably hiding inside my stocking. There is a part of my brain that will stay forever young with those magical images of Christmases past.

Santa still visits our house. My grandchildren come to stay with me from San Antonio and somehow Old St. Nick manages to find them. They are growing older so he may soon quit coming just as he does with all of us once we are no longer children but we never forget how wonderful he made us feel and we vicariously enjoy his magic in the eyes of the young. It will be sad when my grandchildren too have outgrown him.

I’ve worked hard for the past several weeks preparing a feast for my extended family that I will serve on Christmas Day. I am expecting around thirty two adults and kids to join us this year. It is a riotous time filled with laughter and lots of love. There will be children running up and down the hallways and adults hugging and catching up on all that has happened since last we saw one another. We’ll devour mountains of food and by the end of the evening the house will resemble the Griswold’s home in Christmas Vacation after a squirrel runs amuck.

I always sit in the light of the tree on Christmas night wondering how the celebrations went by so quickly. I’ll think of how fortunate I have been throughout my lifetime. I’ll remember all of the people and the traditions that I have enjoyed over the years and I know I will feel quite content. Somehow the spirit of Christmas finds its way into my heart over and over again regardless of what may have happened in the months that came before.

Merry Christmas to everyone. May this holiday find you feeling that magic of the season and sharing love with those who mean the most to you. I hope that Santa is as good to you as he always seems to be to me.

Christmas Gumbo

Published on December 21, 2016December 15, 2016 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

(Note: This blog is a repeat from the past that is back by popular demand. This time it even includes the recipe that I use to make gumbo for my Christmas Day dinner. Enjoy!)

I still haven’t quite learned how to take it easy at Christmastime. I don’t get stressed out like I used to as much as tuckered out. I cling to so many traditions that I am not yet ready to eliminate. So far I am hanging in there but I secretly worry that the day will come when I just can’t do all of the things that I insist on accomplishing. My right knee keeps screaming at me to take it easy but I refuse to give in even though my doctor tells me to listen to my body. Besides, I’ve found a new weapon this year. I’ve taught Mike how to cook.

He is fascinated with the culinary arts anyway. I can visit Williams Sonoma with him anytime that I wish. He walks up and down the same aisles over and over again and never appears to tire of looking for new gadgets, cutlery, and cookware. If I put such items from the store on my wish list I’m almost certain to receive them. I have one of the best stocked kitchens in the city. I have literally reached a point where there is very little that is left to purchase and Mike is bursting with pride over the quality of my implements. On major occasions I have all the equipment that I need to prepare a feast for forty people. The only thing that has been lacking of late is the old energy that I used to possess.

I’ve experimented a great deal with the Christmas dinner that I prepare for my ever growing extended family and never really felt satisfied until last year. My brother roasts the best turkey ever on Thanksgiving so my attempts to go in that route always felt lackluster. I’ve tried roasts and hams and have concocted an assortment of sides. A few years back I think that I actually found the perfect combination but I had to spend days on end cooking and by the time my guests arrived I was too pooped to even care. So last year I made a major decision. I was going to create a new and crazy tradition unlike anything that I had ever before done.

I make a very good gumbo. I’ve slowly but surely perfected the technique and it’s all done from scratch. I have a great recipe that I have tweaked a bit here and there and I generally have incredible results. The only trouble is that I have to use certain pots or the brew doesn’t quite taste right. That means that I can’t double the recipe and I am actually a bit wary of doing that anyway lest it change the chemistry of my ingredients. All of that means that I must meticulously make the gumbo one batch at a time, something I did last season that nearly put me in bed on Christmas Day. I spent well over sixteen hours straight cooking my famous seafood and chicken stews on December 23, and by the end of my marathon I was limping to bed.

For all of this year I have tried to determine how to streamline my process and without warning it came to me that if I were to enlist Mike as my chef in training I would be able to concoct two batches of gumbo at a time and still maintain the integrity of the process. I was absolutely right in guessing that he would thoroughly enjoy the task. What I had dreaded turned into a most enjoyable day for the two of us.

Mike likes to create an atmosphere. He always has. When we were dating he devised a way to have a steady stream of music in his car by carrying a tape player in the backseat. He deftly changed from one prerecorded hour of music to another by reaching behind his seat. Eventually he caught up with modernity by installing an eight track tape player on the dashboard thus allowing him to hold my hand while he drove. I always thought that he was quite clever in finding ways to make ordinary evenings more special. So it didn’t surprise me at all when he found some Christmas in New Orleans music to accompany our cooking session yesterday.

We boiled two pots of shrimp shells and two of blue crabs while we sliced and diced fresh okra, onions, green pepper, celery and garlic. He is so much better with a knife than I am. I think it frustrated him to watch me fumbling with the blades and wearing a protective mesh glove to make sure that I didn’t cut my fingers. He used our chef’s knife like a pro and had his half of the chopping done in half of the time it took me. I think that he secretly enjoyed showing off his skills.

Once we had a steaming seafood broth we gently browned the okra until the ropiness was gone. It was finally time to make the roux. I gently instructed Mike in the process and was soon enough reminded that he is a quick learner. I tend to worry too much about burning the concoction and all too often I pull the plug before the mixture is dark enough. Mike, on the other hand, decided to risk it all by letting his roux turn an ever deeper brown color. The result was perfection. I have to admit that I was quite impressed.

We put in the vegetables and cooked them until they were soft and sticking to the bottom of our pans. We added the tomatoes and the spices to create an even more tantalizing base. Finally we added the broth from the crabs and shrimp and let our heavenly gumbos simmer for an hour. I checked on the progress every fifteen minutes and found that Mike had created a perfect dish on his very first try. All that was left was to add the crabs and the shrimp that we had set aside earlier. After a little more than three hours we had two steaming hot pots of gumbo fit for a king. Even better, we had enjoyed a day of laughter and silly conversation with some great Christmas jazz playing in the background. Somehow it felt perfect.

Mike and I will enjoy another cooking session this afternoon. I have some huge containers to hold the rich stew and I will freeze our creations until the big day. Best of all I will have some delicious fare to offer my guests without putting myself into an early grave. I’ve found the secret at last!

As Mike and I age I think that I will have pre-Christmas gumbo making parties with some of my children and grandchildren. They will learn how to make my most famous dish and I will get the help that I need. Besides we need to keep the recipe in the family. The ingredients are easy enough to find in a book but as with all cooking I tweak the process a bit here and there based on my experiences with perfecting the taste. I add a few little things that seem to enhance the flavors even more.

I’m excited that I now have a gumbo making intern. I can already tell that Mike is ready to try new cooking adventures. I’ve tapped into a side of him that I didn’t know was there. Maybe he will ultimately push me aside and take over the kitchen. I don’t know why it never occurred to me before to invite him into my domain. I suppose that I should have picked up on all of the hints that he was leaving me whenever we made those visits to cookware stores. He was always as intrigued by the implements there as he is when we go to Harbor Freight. I think that he has been longing to receive an invitation into the culinary world but my control freak personality had frightened him away. It’s taken me far too long to let things go but I am slowly but surely altering my personality to be more easy going.

We had a ton of fun working together. The hours passed so quickly and the job felt more like entertainment than toil. We ended our cooking marathon with a viewing of A Christmas Carol and felt a sense of wonder at our grand accomplishment. It feels good to finally have this thing called Christmas figured out. My next phase is going to be to farm out the cleanup duties. That may be a harder sell but I’m ready. I’ve put my white glove of perfection away and learned how to enjoy the moment.

For those of you who have been asking, here is the recipe for the Seafood Gumbo with a nod to The Gumbo Shop in New Orleans for the basic ideas. I’ll send out the Chicken and Sausage recipe tomorrow.

2 lbs of shrimp (I buy the frozen package from HEB that is always as good as fresh shrimp and easier to keep on hand.)

2 or 3 small blue crabs (HEB has a package of frozen crabs that work well)

3 quarts water

2 Tbls. cooking oil

1 quart of okra (Again HEB comes to the rescue with frozen and cut okra)

2/3 cup cooking oil

1 medium onion

1 green bell pepper

1 stem of celery

2 cloves of garlic

16 ounces of diced tomatoes

2 bay leaves

2 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. black pepper

1/2 tsp. white pepper

1/4 tsp. cayenne pepper

small container of cooked crab meat

Peel and devein the the shrimp and set aside the raw shrimp in a bowl in the refrigerator. (If you purchase the frozen variety from HEB it will already be deveined.) Place the shrimp shells and heads in a stock pot with 2 quarts of water. (I add a 2 or 3 tablespoons of Louisiana powdered crab and shrimp boil just to give the broth an extra kick.) Bring the water to a boil and then simmer for 30 to 45 minutes. Once the broth is done drain the mixture into a bowl using a colander. Save the broth and discard the shells. Set aside for later use. At the same time as you are boiling the shrimp shells and heads place the crabs in a pot with one quart of water. (I add a tablespoon of crab and shrimp boil to this as well.) Bring to a boil and then simmer for 20 to 30 minutes. Strain being sure to save both the stock and the crabs. Set the cooked crabs aside along with the broth.

While the two broths are cooking chop all of the vegetables and line up the remaining ingredients so that you will be able to grab them quickly during the cooking process.

Heat 2 tablespoons of oil in a heavy skillet and saute the okra on medium heat until the ropiness is gone. This may take 10 to 15 minutes. Stir frequently to keep the okra from burning.

Now it’s time to make the roux. Put 2/3 cup of oil in a heavy pot and let it heat up just a bit then add the 1/2 cup of flour. Stir the mixture of oil and flour constantly. As the process continues bubbles will begin to form and the mixture will smell like popcorn. Keep stirring until a nice dark brown color is achieved. Be careful not to burn the roux.

Once you have a color that you like add the onions, green pepper, celery and garlic. Saute them in the mixture until they are tender. Scrape the bottom of the pan if the vegetables begin to stick.

When the vegetables are tender add the tomatoes and all of the spices. Cook this mixture for about 10 minutes continuing to stir and scrape the bottom of the pan. Add the sauteed okra and cook for 10 more minutes.

Now add all of the crab stock and one quart of the shrimp stock to the pot. (You should have about two quarts of liquid in the pot.) Bring the mixture to a boil while stirring constantly. Reduce the heat and simmer in a covered pot for one hour, checking the mixture frequently and stirring. You can add more spices during the cooking process according to your taste. After an hour add the crabs and let them cook for 10 minutes then put in the shrimp and let them cook for 5 minutes. I also add some crab meat from the small container to give the gumbo more texture and flavor.

Feel free to adjust the spices. My crew likes their gumbo hot so I don’t hold back but I sample the mixture throughout the cooking process until it seems just right.

The gumbo always tastes better if you allow it to sit in the pot in the refrigerator for a day before serving. I often freeze the gumbo to use later. I thaw it in the refrigerator the day before I intend to use it. It heats up nicely. Just be sure not to overcook the shrimp. I take out the crab bodies and legs because my grandchildren don’t like having to work around them but some people like to keep them in the gumbo for effect. You can remove the meat from the crab shells and put it in the pot if you wish.

Serve the gumbo over rice with a green salad and either French or garlic bread.