Solstice

We had our second annual Solstice celebration this weekend (yes, I am aware that Solstice is a couple of weeks away, yet, but we wanted to make sure all of our most beloved friends could celebrate with us, so we tweaked the timing a bit).

Our Solstice celebration is quickly becoming my most favorite. We gather up the kids and their parents, overfeed everyone, make crafts to celebrate the season and then exchange gifts. Also, wine. There is absolutely nothing less than killer about it.

Okay, here comes the slideshow.

This little village looks serene in stills, but the color in the windows changes from blue to red to green to orange to purple. It is so disco. I love it deeply.

I abuse Epsom salt during the holiday season. I just can't control myself. It's so glittery and looks like snow!

Dunno how these people got a building permit for this precarious location, but I guess that's not my problem.

That is some festive mantle action right there.

Each child lit a candle and told us their wish for the coming year. Dash wished for a new scooter. I think he confused the Solstice candle with Santa.

The crazy lady Christmas village got a new carousel. I love it so hard sometimes I just stand there and watch it spin.

Wrong. Nothing is calm. But that's ok. We like a little bit of chaos in the Engel house.

I am so proud of myself for remembering to take pics of the actual guests! I will post them even though they are dark and blurry.

Sky & Uncle David.

The beautiful (and knocked up) Prudence & very handsome Jordan.

Miss Maddie discovered Andre.

I didn't remember to take any pictures of the food except for these.  

S'mores pops! (marshmallows dipped in melted semi-sweet chocolate & rolled in teeny graham crackers.) We served them in those little paper cups that make me so happy I could squeal. Who am I fooling? I did squeal. I may still be squealing.

CRAFTS! Each kid selected what little tchotchkes they wanted in their snow globes (we had gnomes, snowmen, deer, ballerinas, bunnies, deer--you feel me), then I glue-gunned everything into the lids.

Then we filled the jars with distilled water, a tablespoon of glycerin (to slow the falling "snow"), two teaspoons of white glitter and a few pinches of specialty glitter--the kind used for manicures, like this. We then screwed on the tops and voila: snow globe, bitches.

Next, we made air plant terrariums. I ordered the air plants a couple weeks ago online and managed to keep them alive! Score Liz!

Each kid got a glass globe, a wide assortment of moss to select from, an air plant and a little figurine to accompany it.

We had knights for the boys and fairies for the girls. BECAUSE I AM ALL ABOUT THE GENDER STEREOTYPES, YO.

And in conclusion, we tried to make these owl ornaments.

But really all that happened was we stuck googly eyes all over our faces and anything else that would hold still long enough.

Like Jordan.

Happy early Solstice, friends!

Tis The Season

Hey, look, more picture of the Jews getting crazy at Christmas!

Odelay, pendejos.

It's Christmas, son.

The tree, all whored up.

Stay off da naughty list, Ese.

Merry & Bright

Josh wins at Christmas. 

Now That's a Tree

I thought we had learned our lesson about chopping down our own tree last year, when we accidentally brought home a 10-foot tree. Apparently not. This year we brought home a 12-foot tree. You should see our living room right now. It looks like a department store. The tree is so big that you can't get far enough away from it to see the whole thing at once. It's glorious.

Dash was a fucking delight--running around, trying to choose the best tree.

Josh took his job a bit more seriously.

When we finally found our tree, the boys celebrated by flexing and pretending to bite the saw (Liz: "why are you biting the saw?" Josh: "I have no idea.")

Cutting

Cutting

Cutting

Cutting

Timber!

Well, done, boys.

Trying to get it onto the wagon was when we first realized we may have underestimated the tree's size.

Tree, we salute you! (he's actually comparing his height to the tree, but I think I'm going to start calling it Colonel  anyway).

Solstice

I feel like I've been counting down to Christmas since July (I blame Pinterest), and now that the Thanksgiving leftovers have finally been dealt with, I feel ready to really get my jingle bell on. Let's start with our Solstice celebration invitations, shall we? (I call it Solstice because we talk about the seasons and welcoming back the light, but really it's just an opportunity to craft with the childrins and feed them and their parents too much candy.)

I found these plain wooden tubes at the craft store more than a year ago. I thought I was going to use them for Dash's birthday party invitations, but the Universe had other plans.

The tubes were delivered to each guest stickered with a "classified" warning and a postmark from the North Pole.

Shall we take a peek inside?

BOOM! We finally infiltrated Santa's operation and got hold of the Nice List.

And here it is. Our guests found themselves listed among such other luminaries as Mr. Harry Potter and Ms. Pippi Longstocking (who just squeaked by). 

(If you're interested, the Nice List was made by dipping sheets of legal-sized paper into cold coffee, letting them dry and then running them through the printer. I laid out two copies of the list on each sheet, and then cut them in half lengthwise to make a thin scroll. Does that make sense?)

The Feast

If I'm honest, I have to admit I was a little worried about celebrating our first Thanksgiving after losing my father. Thanksgiving was our jam. I'd show up at his house early in the morning, he'd pour me a glass of champagne (what?) and I'd plop down to watch the Twilight Zone marathon until it was time to hoist myself up to make the cranberries (which he refused to eat--it was canned or nothing for him) and then get dressed to greet whatever assortment of guests he'd invited that year.

You've never met a man more in tune with sentiment of Thanksgiving. He seriously felt it, and he made sure you felt it, too. So, celebrating this year without his phone call ("Gobble, gobble!"), without his toast, without his recitation of gratitude for all of his many gifts, felt a little strange. A little empty. But as the day progressed and our house filled up with our many beloved friends and family; as the food started to come together; as the children began to list all the many things they are grateful for this year; the empty spot in the pit of my belly began to fill. By the end of the night--spent barefoot in the garage playing board games with the kids--the empty spot was full to overflowing.

I think he would have been proud to see how we spent our day.

His watch.

Grown-up table.

Kids' table.

Dash and Baba in the calm before the storm.

Canned, in honor of Pops.