Home For Christmas

Having spent the year before in Europe, Jason was determined to never miss Christmas at home again. Although I don't necessarily share his enthusiasm, I can certainly understand why he has it. The Bayer Family Christmas is quite a production. It's starts the day after Thanksgiving with a family trip to the Christmas tree farm to select the perfect 7-foot fir to grace the living room. Julie scours the attic for her favorite home decorations, including stockings (hung by the chimney with care), hand towels, snow globes, window decals, and festive centerpieces. Jay assembles his "Christmas village" on the roll top desk, displaying several wind-up music boxes, singing ornaments and light-up miniature cottages. Christmas music fills the house at all times, as does the smell of baked goods and roasted meats. It is the embodiment of the Christmas spirit, but with way more scented candles.

Meanwhile, Stich Family Christmas is the polar opposite. As a Jehovah's Witness, my mother doesn't celebrate any religious holidays or birthdays so definitely not Jesus's ("alleged!") birthday. My dad puts the light up reindeer in the yard and might blow the dust off our 15" fiberoptic tree before plunking it on top of the coffee table. On Christmas day, we do a mid-afternoon meal of baked ham, canned corn, garlic mashed potatoes and fruit salad at a member of the Stich family's house, where all the aunts, uncles and cousins stop by. The family is bigger and bigger every year so we have a bunch of tables in different rooms since no one table is big enough for us all. After lunch, we play a few rounds of euchre, maybe some Apples to Apples and call it a day.  The rest of the evening is yours to do with what you want: usually a screening of National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation (because we can relate), a couple of beers during whatever sporting event happens to be on TV, and everyone passed out on the couch by 10:00.

In Waynesboro, Christmas itself spans several days, not just the 25th, and your presence is strongly encouraged at all times. If you miss even a few hours of family Christmas week, to say, read a book, everyone will wonder why you wouldn't rather spend that time with the family. Stockings and presents are opened one by one so everyone can see what you got and you can ooh and ahh over each gift. Giving gifts out of turn or when someone else is already opening a gift is frowned upon. Stockings are stuffed with little knick knacks (emergency phone chargers, mini tools, glasses cleaning cloths, sample packs of assorted medicines and, of course, lotto tickets) but the real gifts are extremely thoughtful, often having been purchased months in advance or hand made. Everyone sits down at one table for a formal meal of prime rib, steamed vegetables, mashed potatoes, homemade cranberry relish, fresh baked rolls and a seemingly endless selection of pies/cookies/cakes/candies for dessert. After dinner, the whole family gathers in the living room to play some music and sing songs. Everyone has plenty to drink as we stay up until the wee hours of the morning.

In Rochester, total "formal" family time is approximately 4 hours and because more and more of us are getting married and sharing holidays, it means that not everyone can make it for the event. This often means making multiple trips throughout the week to various places to try to see everyone. Rochester is not a very big city but it does take about 20-30 minutes to get anywhere from anywhere else, more if the weather is bad, as it often is. Since many of my friends are still in town, they get added to the list of people to see, making for even more running around. Gift giving is mostly a thing of the past unless you happened to find something you thought the recipient might really need/love while you were sprinting through the mall on Christmas Eve. It is not uncommon to give someone a gift and get nothing in return. Gift giving is done without fanfare and sometimes the giver isn't even present when you open it. We typically see the Reed side of the family on New Year's Day for a pretty similar event: Pizza and wings, drinks, sports, kids running around, everyone talking at once, no gifts.

In a side by side comparison, Christmas in Rochester appears pretty uneventful and for someone who is accustomed to a straight week of full on family time, it can seem like a bit of a waste to go all that way for something so brief. But brevity and lack of pomp and circumstance do not make family time any less special to me. Since most of my family is still in Rochester, we have the unique opportunity to not need to jam a year's worth of family time into one week. We have the 3rd of July at Conesus Lake and Thanksgiving and Easter and pretty much any weekend could be turned into a big family party with a little planning. But with us being so far away, we don't get to participate in any of those gatherings, making Christmas the best option I've got.

Jason struggles to see it this way. When we discussed our plans to go home for the holidays, he automatically assumed that meant to Waynesboro, not even considering Rochester because Christmas just "isn't a big deal" for my family. I agree that we don't have all the glitz and glamor of a Waynesboro Christmas, and certainly not the longevity, but that doesn't mean it's just another day. It's a time when most people can get off work to come hang out, ourselves included. While our traditions have shifted slightly in the last few years, it's still just as meaningful to be there, knowing that my aging grandparents don't have many Christmases left with is. Maybe we don't spend all day cooking or all year buying gifts but isn't the most important thing to be together, even if only briefly?

With so many different family members (~20 people these days), finding even an afternoon to get everyone in the same place can be a little tricky, especially during a holiday when everyone's presence is shared across multiple families but we have found a way to make it work. Jason's family consists of 4 people that live within 30 minutes of each other, 4 more that live about 3 hours away and the two of us. If we had to organize a gathering on a day other than Christmas it wouldn't be so hard, with a small amount of advanced planning.

This was the discussion we found ourselves in this year when we were trying to make plans for the holidays. I wish I could say talks went civilly, but it's tough not to be emotional about family matters. The thought of celebrating Christmas on a day other than December 25th was downright insulting to Jason and met with "Yeah, we'd be together, but it wouldn't be Christmas." Expressing that I still cared about my family despite such a short celebration received a curt "But you don't DO anything." Finally, I suggested an alternating schedule: One year in Rochester, the next in Waynesboro with this argument" "I know how important Christmas is to you and your family and it's the same for me so the thought of never seeing my family AGAIN on Christmas breaks my heart. Couldn't we split it up?" When he realized he would get to see his family every year, just maybe not on Christmas day, this seemed to relieve some of his stress, although I could tell he felt like he was making this huge sacrifice for something so "trivial." I must admit, my feelings were more than a little hurt but in the end, we both agreed it was the best option. And since we had Christmas in Waynesboro the last time, it was Christmas in Rochester this year!

It unfolded exactly as it always does: a meal with family, driving back and forth across the city to meet up with people, beers at the house on the couch and plenty of time to do our own thing. We headed down to Waynesboro on the 27th and everything was exactly as it would have been if we were there for Christmas day. Big meal, 24/7 family time, games, music, drinks, plus party hopping for NYE. We still got to see everyone, we still got to eat all the Christmas foods, we still got to exchange gifts for several hours and, unsurprisingly, it was not the end of the world. In fact, it was lovely. There were just as many tears when we left both families but everyone was already excited to do it again the next year.

So what did we learn from all this? That Christmas just as much a feeling as it is a day. That there is no substitute for family, regardless of the amount of time spent together or the number of presents exchanged. That bringing two families together means compromising and sometimes not getting your way, but also becoming part of new traditions and learning about each other. Most importantly, we learned that it's hard being far away but that just makes it all the more special when we do get to come home.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

A December to Remember

December was never my favorite month.

It's the beginning of flu season and as I kid, I would conveniently get sick with anything but the flu right around my birthday. Teaching public school and riding public transportation has made my immune system nearly indestructible but I still find myself with an occasional sniffle that is just annoying enough to make you look like Rudolph but not serious enough to actually treat it any way.

December is also when winter really starts to settle in. There are no flukey warm days and the hope of an Indian summer withered away with those last few leaves left hanging on the trees. In Rochester and even Baltimore to a lesser extent, it meant cold temperatures and snow, but only on days when you were in a hurry or had something important planned. "Your students are already a week behind in the curriculum because of state mandated diagnostic testing? Well, here's a blizzard that we're grossly underprepared for despite the fact that it happens every year and it's going to keep you out of school for 4 days! Don't worry. We'll just reschedule the lost days in June after final exam week. I'm sure attendance will be great and you'll really get a lot out of that instructional time!"

And then there's Christmas. I am the opposite of The Grinch and Scrooge in that as I participate in more Christmases, I seem to like it less and less. I hate the aggressive consumerism that completely overshadows the fun family stuff. People are pushy and rude and always in a hurry. Not exactly the Christmas spirit. There is always the ridiculous battle, steeped in religious intolerance, about the phrase "Happy Holidays." Someone's mad if you say it, someone else is mad if you don't. Why can't we just be glad that we're wishing well to our fellow man and leave it at that? I love giving presents, but I hate the intense amount of pressure that I feel to pick just the right gifts, especially now that I have married into such a good gift giving family. How can I compete with handcrafted silver jewelry that you've been working on for months?? And speaking of families, it is so hard sharing holidays, especially when you've already crossed an ocean to be there and now you have to pack up your stuff and drive across two states to be somewhere else. Jason's family is really into Christmas so we always spend it there but that means that I have to miss my family's get-together every year. It sucks. Just because we don't do Christmas to the extreme doesn't mean we don't love seeing each other. Also, Christmas music blaring on the radio 24/7 makes me want to rip my ears off. Bah humbug indeed.

BUT! This December was pretty awesome. Here's why.

It was the 3rd annual Bordeaux Tasting event and I am proud to say that I have been to every single one. Unlimited tastings of hundreds of wines from all over Bordeaux and the world, plus spirits and champagnes, all day long for 19€? Yes. Yes, I will.

Coincidentally, I have lots of friends that were also born in December so we had a big fat joint birthday party at our place. A bunch of my friends from work came and there were snacks, games, drinks and dancing until the wee hours of the morning. Everything was perfect until my rum and Cokes turned into rum and rums and I was perhaps a bit more intoxicated than I wanted to be. Oops! The next day was... difficult. DIRTY 30!!!!

December is also really beautiful in Bordeaux. You don't see a lot of lights on individual houses but the city light displays are pretty epic.

Seeing as I had just been in the US for Thanksgiving, I made it very clear to Jason that I was not planning to go back home for Christmas. He was thinking about it pretty hard and it didn't help that Jay was laying on the "I don't know how many Christmases I have left" guilt pretty thick, but my "You're going to leave me alone on my 30th birthday?" guilt won out. Hooray for manipulating people into spending time with you! That's what the holidays are really all about.

We cooked an epic Christmas feast and opened gifts with the Bayers via FaceTime, which worked out well for everyone involved. I was feeling inspired this year and I got lots of great gifts for Jason and even some that didn't suck for the Bayers. My family doesn't really do presents so much (which is why I have such limited gift-giving skills) but I got Josh, Stefanie and my parents this Amerks hockey gift pack with some tickets and little winter hats. Everyone was happy!

There was some thing really nice about having the day to ourselves this year. Family time is wonderful, but going home for the holidays is not. Traveling around Christmas is THE WORST, not only because it is prohibitively expensive but mostly because people just aren't very nice. Everyone needs to be where they're going NOW and the TSA does not have time for smiling or speaking in normal tones. Everyone has a special situation that no one could possibly understand, despite the fact that people have been traveling on Christmas literally since Christmas was even invented. We swapped massive crowds for mac 'n' cheese and pricey flights for pumpkin pies. Merry Christmas to us.

I know I said I don't like traveling around the holidays but I was willing to deal a 90-minute direct flight on the 26th because it meant on got to spend my 30th birthday in Amsterdam. Bitch. We were very well behaved: No drugs or prostitutes or other things that Amsterdam is known for. But we did have some great food and plenty of tasty beers. Canals, lots of bikes and even a windmill!

 

 

 On New Year's Eve, Jason was feeling a little under the weather (I told you everyone gets sick in December) so we decided to ring in the new year quietly, from home. We didn't have much choice. Apparently, you're supposed to reserve a table at a nice restaurant and stay there all night drinking and eating with friends but we totally dropped the ball on that. (Pun intended!!!!) We got a little sassy around 11:45 and tried to find a bar to go into, just to do the countdown, but even that was nearly impossible. In the end, we heard a lot of cheering from the apartments above as we wandered the streets at midnight and we snuck into a pub around the corner for a couple of beers around 12:15. Not much fanfare, no champagne, but it was a nice night, nonetheless. If this is any indication of what 2015 has in store, I think it's going to be a really chill year.

We are Aoûtiens - Part 4

August 28-29: Olivia and William's Wedding

We had just one evening at home before we were off for our final adventure of the summer. One of  Jason's colleagues, Olivia, was getting married and we were on the guest list. The wedding took place in Jonzac, a little town not too far from Cognac, just over an hour from us in Bordeaux. We hitched a ride with our French friends Guillaume and Alexia, and our ol' pal Rick was along for the ride as well. The five of us jammed into the car, with our sleeping gear and dancing shoes.

I had attended a few parties with Olivia and her crew before so I suppose I should have known that this wedding was going to be an epic event. The ceremony at the church involved a lot of hymn-singing, which was made even more difficult because they were all in French, but we gave it our best effort. After what was (probably?) a lovely service, the newlyweds came out into the church yard for photos and mingling. It looked like something out of a Disney movie.

Over to the reception where more impossibly beautiful and perfect things would happen. The invitation said it was at a château, which is par for the course in France, but I was not prepared for what we rolled up on.

Really? When did I have friends with homes like this?

Firstly, it belongs to Olivia's grandfather, which is already extra cool. I know someone with their own château! Secondly, the yard was set up for cocktail hour. To me, cocktail hour is some veggies and dip, cheese and crackers, and lasts exactly one hour. WRONG. This cocktail hour included smoked salmon, sliced meats, pâté, gourmet mini-soups in tiny plastic cups, all the champagne in the world and 3000 oysters. That means 10 oysters for everyone who attended the wedding. There was a freaking jazz trio. Unlike the name would suggest, cocktail hour lasted for a good four hours. I kept waiting for them to announce it was time for dinner so I was pacing myself on the snacks, but I should have just gone hard when I first got there. It would be ages before we sat down for dinner.

Boats of oysters!

Keep the champagne coming, sir.

When it started getting dark, they brought us into the chai for dinner (because I know people with a place other than their adjacent châteaux that can seat 300 people comfortably) and we had a beautiful meal of salad, foie gras, pork medallions, roasted vegetables, and even a cheese plate. There were speeches from the fathers, a musical number by Olivia's cousins, more speeches from the bride and groom. This was followed by a spread of desserts like none I have ever seen. There were little strawberry-basil smoothies, macaroons, mini crème brûlée, and a self-serve ice cream truck. Not like the powdered stuff you used to have in the dining hall but real hand-crafted French ice cream. And in case you were somehow still sober after cocktail hour and the wine at dinner, there was more champagne and cognac for the digestif. All. Night. Long.

But who has time for drinking when there is a dance party going on? The DJ was spinning one great song after another and the dance floor was packed all night. It seemed like every guest knew how to swing dance, and the room was a blur of bouncing curls and swirling coattails. The last time I went to a party with Olivia, we were up dancing until 5am. This time, the sun was coming up before we decided to call it a night. We had been at it for 13 hours, after all.

We were invited to crash at the other château on the property (two châteaux?!?!?) and Olivia had explained to Jason where we should sleep. There must have been some misunderstanding because when we went to set up our air mattress, Jason insisted Olivia had told him that we were supposed to sleep in the vestibule of the bathroom. You know, that little room outside the toilets that has the sink and maybe a linen closet. I was skeptical, but he seemed awfully sure of himself and I didn't have the physical or mental energy to fight with him about it. Jason has a tendency to snore when he's been drinking and this evening was certainly no exception. Maybe it was best that we were in our own little area so he didn't keep the rest of the house up all night (morning?). Unfortunately, every time someone had to use the bathroom, which was often after a night of drinking, they had to stumble over our semi-comatose bodies, sprawled in front of the door. Needless to say, it was not the most restful sleep I ever got in my life.

It was around noon when we finally started moving again and we were met with a little good-hearted teasing from Olivia. "I don't know how you sleep at night with that snoring, Nicole! And why were you in the bathroom? You couldn't have gotten any sleep with people disturbing you all night!!" Yes, yes. Laugh at my pain. And for the record: I WAS RIGHT, JASON.

I was expecting to pack up our things and head down the road, but we were invited to a post-wedding brunch of leftovers from the night before. We had plenty of oysters to finish, the rest of the cheese plates, hard-boiled eggs, cold cuts and what French meal is complete without a bazillion baguettes? Oh, and that ice cream was not going to eat itself!

We spent the rest of the afternoon on the patio, soaking up the sun and letting the bread soak up the booze that was left in our bellies. By 5pm, we decided it was probably time to go back to real life. Guillaume and Alexia were staying a bit longer so we bid our hosts goodbye and Rick, Jason and I hopped a train back to Bordeaux.

As the summer drew to a close, we were tired but happy, with a whole bunch of new memories and a few more places checked off the bucket list. The new school year is already back in action but at least I have a few light days to ease me back into the swing of things. I'm still recovering, that's for sure.

So long, sweet summer. See you next year.

We are Aoûtiens - Part 1

Having always been a teacher, I already know the joys of summers off but it's quite a different experience when all of your friends have super long vacations, too. As I have mentioned before, full-time French employees are guaranteed 5 weeks of paid vacation every year and most seem to save up their time and blow it all during the months of July (les juillettistes) or August (les aoûtiens).

We are decidedly aoûtiens.

After a hectic June and a mad scramble to catch up on everything in our lives in July, we were in pretty desperate need of a real holiday. Our old pals from Baltimore Pat and Soraya joined us for the first weekend of August and then we were off like a prom dress for the rest of the month. Here's a brief recap of our grand adventures, in four installments.

August 5-13: England and Wales with Rick

Even after meeting him just once, I knew Rick and I were going to be good friends. This summer, things got really serious when we decided to travel to his native land, meet his friends and family and roadtrip across his beautiful country. We flew into Bristol and we were immediately met by a bit of skepticism from the border police when we explained what our plans were for the next 8 days: A 750-mile tour around the UK, starting with a 2.5 hour drive straight to the Brecon Beacons in Wales. Anything longer than 45 minutes is quite far by British standards but where we come from in 'Murica, anything less than 6 hours is basically right down the road. Let's do this.

First stop: The Usk Inn. We could not have asked for a more authentic introduction to the UK. A cozy little pub in the middle of nowhere, an accent so thick I wondered if it was still English and the heartiest stews you've ever had in your life. And beer! Real beer! None of this Belgian bullshit that tastes like fruit and makes you want to die the next day. Real, honest-to-goodness ales. It was glorious.

We drove back down to Cardiff the next morning and spent the day running around the castle and drinking more beers in pubs that are older than my country.

That night, we made our way up to Rick's hometown of Preston, which is not far from Liverpool. We were welcomed by Rick's wonderful parents, Dave and Margaret, who promptly mocked Rick for the way his his lovely British accent has been tainted by our grimey American drawl. What can I say? This is what happens when you spend time with treasonous hillbillies.

We did a few little day trips to various places near Preston, including Blackpool, which some locals refer to as "The Las Vegas of England" despite it having literally nothing in common with Vegas except for maybe that twinge of shame and regret you feel after having visited. Perhaps not the prettiest city in the UK but there was a beach and an amusement park and some real good people watching.

We also spent a day walking around in the Lake District, a massive national park in the northwest corner of England. I have never been more glad to not know how to drive standard in all my life because the roads were really only meant for half a car and the number of times I thought we were going to plummet over a cliff to our deaths or get in a head on collision with another car was far too high to count. Rick navigated the winding Wrynose Pass like a champ and Jason and I needed a change of pants once we got back to Preston.

After a wild night out in Preston, we were off to Newcastle, which was probably my favorite part of the trip, other than meeting Rick's family. We joined up with some of Rick's friends from college and took full advantage of all the great pubs in the city. Unlike the relatively low-key Bordelais, everyone in Newcastle seemed like they were ready to party at any moment. Those Geordies sure do love to get dressed up and get crazy.

Partying hard in Preston

On the drive to Newcastle

Proper fish n chips in Tynemouth

After a getting a bit wild in Preston and Newcastle, we were ready for the quiet of the country. Rick's parents have a cute little caravan in the woods in the Yorkshire area and we spent two nights out there enjoying all that the countryside has to offer: The Black Sheep Brewery, llamas and SkyTV.

Traffic jam in the country

Llama trekking with Jack and Guss

We also had the chance to visit York, one of England's oldest and historically rich cities. It really is a cool place and the abundance of pubs certainly adds to its charm.

On the final leg of the trip, we stopped for tea back at Rick's place before heading down the road to our final destination. Home of the Beatles and people who talk like the Beatles, Liverpool is an interesting blend of history, modernity and pure grit. While some would say it's a bit rough around the edges, I would say that roughness adds to its charm. It reminded me a bit of Baltimore. We spent the evening with a few local Liverpudlians resulting in some pretty serious hangovers the next morning. Nothing that some greasy diner food and a walk around town can't fix!

When it was time to head back to Bordeaux that evening, we were all tired but truly amazed by the beauty and diversity of such a tiny little country, not to mention the wonderful, friendly people we met while we were there. And the food was way better than the French would have you believe. We'll see you again soon, UK!