Sometime in the afternoon of Christmas Eve, the streets begin to empty, the stores shut down, the lights go on in houses, and we are in the quiet of Christmas week. I love this point in the holidays, when silence falls upon the town and the hustle and bustle fall away. We snuggle, we settle in, we celebrate.
At my house there’s feasting of various sorts, butternut squash soup, smoked duck breast, good cheese, dark beer, or, another night, crab cakes and lamb and scalloped potatoes and chocolate souffle. For some, there is time for running and saunas and reading. For others, “Peter in the Pan” ( a misnomer I like to think indicates my three year old’s culinary interests) and more trucks than we know what to do with. And, for one of us, the unalloyed joy of chasing ducks. For all of these, we are most grateful.
Here’s wishing that our readers who celebrate Christmas had a merry one and that those who don’t find this quiet time rich in pleasures. Whatever form they take.