Yesterday my husband and I celebrated our first Christmas together married. We spent Christmas together 2 years ago when we were dating (but not last year since he was still out at sea working a cruise ship contract), but this was the first one we’ve been married for.
He had big plans to make an elaborate Thanksgiving-esque Christmas dinner (since we don’t do Thanksgiving the typical American way since it’s always planted right in the middle of the Nativity Fast). Since he had his heart set on turkey and I know my mum HATES to cook turkey, I offered to let my parents and sister join us at our little apartment for our Christmas dinner.
It all went pretty well. The stuffing we made was delicious, the turkey (which my husband dubbed the “Scarborough Fair turkey” since it was seasoned with parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme) turned out surprisingly well (though we unfortunately had to cook it longer than planned which delayed dinner’s beginning), and the potatoes and gravy were just fine. I misread the recipe (more like I forgot we were only making 1/3 of it) for the brussels sprouts and put too much salt in–otherwise they would’ve been great. Instead they were just OK. At any rate, we had a very nice time using our still-pretty-new fancy dishes (another reason I wanted Christmas dinner at our place!).
My parents and sister had a good time, too, despite the dinner delay, and I have to admit it was really nice to be home in our own place at the end of the day. I was–and am!–exhausted. I wish I could’ve had today off of work as well. Next year if we can do it, I think I’ll take the 24th and 26th off of work as well. But who knows where we’ll be living or where I’ll be working by then!
Christ is born!