Christmas Crafts

This Christmas, we were low key and made gifts for most everyone. One of the things I gave was jars of home made bath bombs (or in this case, bath bonbons), which fizz luxuriously when you drop them into the tub. I used this recipe. However, for citric acid, which really should have been simple to find near canning supplies in any of the FIVE places we had to go to find it... I used Sour Salt from the kosher section. Same thing. Much easier to find. Rather than using an essential oil to scent it, I used rose water, which was a bit touchy to stir in without everything bubbling up, but seemed to work fine. I wanted the smell to be a bit subtle.

I also baked some rose petals on a baking tray until they dried out (surprisingly quickly) and crushed them to add to the mixture. Who doesn't like rose petals in their bath? They added nicely to the scent as well.

I pressed them into candy molds, using a pestle to put enough pressure on them to make them firm. I had to try some, of course, and I was pretty pleased with the result. I dropped in three bonbons, and they fizzed away in short order. It was a pleasant smell--not overwhelming or chemical--and there was just enough oil in them to leave my skin feeling nice and soft, but not enough to leave a mark on the tub. Whew. These would also make a good foot soak, I think.

One other thing, if anyone's planning on making these--humidity can do really wack things to them. They need to dry for a while before being packaged, but leaving them out for too long makes them puff up. After opening a jar of bonbons I'd closed tightly and having it hiss like a bottle of soda, I decided I needed a dessicant in there. I got a little box of it from the craft store--the kind used to dry flowers--and made a little sachet for each bottle. After that, voila! No more pressure and hissing, though I was too late on a few of the bottles, and the bonbons looked more like macaroons than sleek candies.

Status Update: Fail... (or maybe not)

Remember I was commenting on the Boy's gift, and saying it would be hard to wait until Christmas to give it to him?

Yeah. I failed. I kind of blurted it out yesterday.

On the up-side, the Boy has a fantastic beverage carbonater to play with, and we get to make interesting fizzy drinks!! It came with some oils in tiny spray bottles - lemon, lime, grapefruit, and mandarin orange. Apparently other oils, like cinnamon can be gotten at Sur la Table, which is nearby. We'll have to do some experimenting. I'd like to make our own ginger ale. There's a restaurant in Michigan that makes their own, and so far the recipe eludes me. I believe I inflicted it on some friends a few years ago. Sorry guys!

This time, I may try this recipe instead of a simple syrup with ginger.

Theft of the Magi

Aww. It's so sweet.

Well, Christmas is coming, and I'm a stupidly excited for the season to roll into full swing. It's not so strange that when I worked in retail, I silently raged at the fact that Christmas cards and decor were being sold before Thanksgiving was even here. I was something of a zealot, even.

To my surprise, the first Christmas after I stopped working at the bookstore, I found...well... I enjoyed the season. I realized I actually really like twinkling lights, and the smell of evergreen and cinnamon, and good things baking. I like scarves and hats, and figuring out gifts for various people I love. I like the foods of the season, as well--gingerbread cookies (decorated as our favorite literary characters, according to family tradition. Captain Ahab always featured prominently because whoever made him got to bite his leg off) cranberry bread, butter tarts, savory stuffing, various apple concoctions, hot cocoa, etc...

I've come to the conclusion that, stress of retail during the Holidays aside, the thing that made the difference was not having to listen to forty versions of "Santa Baby" for 9 hours a day, two months straight. More about Christmas music later.

In the mean time, I'm a bit thrilllllled, because I have the Boy's Christmas gift, and it will rock his socks off. He's a tough one to get presents for. It's rare that I'm able to afford anything that he really would just adore, so I'm excited to give this to him. He will love it. That's the best part. And you know the second best part? It was free. God bless folk who keep brand new neat stuff unused in their basement for seven years. You know who you are!

And now to see if I can manage to wait for Christmas to give it to him. Ten bucks says I can't.

At Long Last...

Another stinkin' blog post. It's been a busy month, clearly, what with Christmas, friends, family, New Years, The Boy being home for more than three consecutive days, etc etc.

A quick catch up -

The majority of my vast family arrived a week before Christmas, and I trucked the half hour over to Rochester to spend time with them. It was really nice to see and hang with people, but it was also a bit tiring being gone from a little while after I woke up until a little while before I went to sleep. Our two cats got right pissy with me and tore up several innocent pieces of junk mail in protest.

The Boy arrived home the Sat. before Christmas and we traversed the grey and snowless landscape over to where my family was staying. Another couple members of the family had come into town, so there were more greetings and chattings and in general, many warm and genial sentiment as well as delicious and caloric treats were had. It was really Christmassy, which was absolutely lovely. Up until that point, the short doses of Christmas I'd had were from public decorations or the beautiful getup at my sister's house, which was resplendent with white lights and evergreens. I didn't have a tree this year because I've been the only one here, and the hassle and risk of cat attacks didn't seem worth it. However, I did hang a few ornaments from the chandeliers in the living room and dining room. While whimsical, it wasn't exactly Christmassy. In any case, in a continuing explosion of wrapping paper, exclamations, and laughter, lots and lots of gifts for lots and lots of family members were opened the night before Christmas eve, and it was heartwarming and makes me happy to think of. I like those times. I wish so much that every single one of us could have been there. Even so, our family is so vast that little pockets of conversation, card games, grazing, pool games, etc. form around the house, and it's enough to drift from one to the next in a happy daze. Best part of Christmas.

This year, Christmas itself was claimed by the Boy's side of the family, so on Christmas Eve, we packed up the rest of the unopened gifts, and bundled off to Vitosha Guest Haus in Ann Arbor to celebrate on a much smaller scale with the Boy, his mother, and me. The place was empty except for us, which was wonderful. The buildings on the grounds were very cool--built a hundred years ago of stone and thick wood in a neo-gothic style.

Behold, The Boy stands at the door of the parsonage and knocks! Or acutally, he has the key, so... behold! He lets himself (and us) in!

In the drawing room of the parsonage, the seven deadly sins were mounted around the ceiling on Pewabic pottery tiles. I took a picture of sloth to remind us why we were there. He seems to approve. "Yes, my children--laze about! Mwahhahah!"

This bed makes the Boy look tiny. At 6'4'', the Boy is not tiny. It was just a hella big bed, covered in down comforters and more down comforters.

The feel of the place reminded me a lot of some places we stayed in Bavaria in Germany. It was the kind of solid place that tells you it's been there a while, but that there's nothing frail about it. It was full of wonderful antiques and books and tapestries. I'm not talking about fragile victorian antiques with thin spindles--I'm talking about hearty, hand carved pieces made of dark wood. The downstairs rooms have heated slate floors, and most of the rooms have big fireplaces. The Boy and I piled the gifts near the hearth in our room, and from our massive cabinet bed (we needed STEPS to get in) we watched the flames flicker in the dark, and the light dancing on the gifts, and we knew it was Christmas.

Meet the very incarnation of my favorite lamp ever. This was over in the church building, which was more 1957 modern (prairie?) architecture. Very neat to look at.

The sancuary of the old church is still santuary shaped, but it's now used as a venue, and what a sweet venue it would be, with the light diffusing through the ivy on one side, massive windows on the other, and a pipe organ just like this:

The Tea Haus at the back of the property was called "The Three Bears Haus," though I think it could have aptly been named "Dove Cottage." I thought I saw one of the Lake Poets peering through the curtains, or perhaps Beatrix Potter.

Christmas morning was a flurry of opened gifts, oohs and ahs, and an amazing breakfast of fresh made streudel, a fruit salad with lychee, kiwi, and all sorts of beautiful, delicious things, a plate of assorted wonderful cheeses (thanks Kei!) and a quiet Christmas Day mostly spend wandering around the place, chatting with the owner patting the massive great dane, George, on his broad, sleepy head, and following seemingly endless winding corridors to other parts of the house for yet another neat little corner to settle into for a little while.

Behold, the sad and crumbly remains of our delectable breakfast.

I highly recommend it as an amazing, simple getaway. Be sure to order the breakfast! I'm going to keep an eye on cultural happenings there to see if there's anything those of us in the area would like to see. Wheee!

Thus concludes my report of what happened over Christmas. It was a nice Christmas this year. Not filled with the wonder and excitedment of some other years, but it was quiet and lovely and had some wonderful moments.