Making Lists, And Then, Reindeer Cookies.

It was inevitable, I suppose.

I can’t find …

I seem to have misplaced …

I just can’t put my hands on …

Dagnabbit.  I lost a list.

I am an inveterate list-maker.  At this time of year, I even keep a list of my lists, including:

•  Wish lists from Snarky Son and Darling Daughter, itemizing their ideas for gifts I purchased months before they made their lists; gifts I’m not giving, but may purchase on behalf of stymied (I did not say “feckless”) family members; gifts they probably don’t want but I’m giving them anyway; and gifts I wouldn’t give even if they came with a bucket of water and my hair was on fire.  Doesn’t hurt to ask, though.

•  List of things to make/bake/mix/ladle/freeze, including the usual holiday sweets like the saltine-based Chocolate Toffee Treats, the semi-homemade Sausage Bread we have to have but never actually eat while tearing into gifts Christmas Day, and, inevitably, something ridiculous, like Julia Child’s Boeuf Bourguignon, which I have no business attempting under the best of circumstances, much less during the time of year when a bowl of cereal is considered a fairly complete dinner Chez Wiles.

•  Gifts to wrap/deliver/mail, including the Feminine Wiles cookbooks I had made up which are absurdly priced, but I am  distributing as if they were Belk department store perfume samples.

•  The always outdated grocery list.  Despite constant updates and the best efforts of SS and DD, who know that, if you don’t write it down, it won’t go in the cart, I’m now visiting our neighborhood Harris Teeter at least twice a day.  On no fewer than half of these visits, I’ll be distracted by something like those darling bags of crushed peppermint (perfect for Chocolate Toffee Treats!) or tiny cinnamon chips and will completely forget that milk, milk, MILK is the one item I’m supposed to buy.

•  A Christmas card list.  What am I thinking?  For the previous two years, during my separation and divorce, I didn’t address a single card.  Even my parents have abandoned all hope of finding anything in their mailboxes bearing my return address.  But if good intentions count for anything, I do have a list.  Check.

•  The daily “To Do” list.  This one includes such important items as when to pick up my various carpools, and more importantly, where.  It also includes “clean out the fridge,” which seriously, is something I have to do at the beginning of any holiday season.  For me, a clean fridge equals a clean mind.  Or a clean slate.  Or at the very least, a place to put the milk.  If I remember to buy it.

Santa help me, because the List goes on and on, including everything but the kitchen sink -- and, regretfully, the misplaced Shared List I made with Little Sis which included such mundane things as parent gifts I said I'd buy.

Umm.  Sorry, Sis?

Yep.  Time to simplify.    I can’t really eliminate any of the items on the lists.  They’re important to me.  They’re important to the kids.  They’re part of our holiday tradition.

What I can do, though, is lighten up.  I don’t have to wrap every cookbook with hand-painted paper.  A bow-tied ribbon (a really lovely one, of course) is plenty.  An e-mailed Christmas letter or card will get the job done.  And although I’m desperate to try the Salted Chocolate Covered Caramel Cookies described in A Good Appetite,  I may not get to them before DD’s cookie swap this weekend.  Instead, these adorable three-ingredient Reindeer Cookies, made with Pillsbury dough will be plenty good enough.

But first, has anyone seen that list?  I think it was on graph paper.  Three-hole punched.  And have you looked inside my fridge?  Nice.

Reindeer Cookies

1 package Pillsbury Gingerbread refrigerated dough

Pretzels (for antlers)

Red and green M&Ms

Preheat oven to 350.  Line cookie sheets with parchment paper.  (Parchment paper, I think, is the key to any successful cookie.)  Using a serrated knife, slice dough into ¼-inch discs, placing on parchment paper 3-4 inches apart.  Know, using your thumb and forefinger, squeeze each disc into a kind of hourglass shape.  Press two pretzels into the top of each cookie, as antlers.  Add two green M&M candies into the top half of the hourglass, as eyes.  Press a red M&M candy into the bottom half, as a nose.  Bake about 8 minutes, or until dough puffs up and loses that “shiny” look.  Let cool and remove to racks.  There, that was easy.  Check it off the list.

Eighteen Days Before Christmas And Top On My List? Greasing The Track.

It’s 10 p.m. Chez Wiles, and not a creature is stirring.

Unless, of course, you count Lionel, our Napoleon-complex-afflicted feline, who is stalking and pouncing on what, given the season, I imagine to be a few stray, zippy and unusually aggressive elves, who are leading a frantic chase through the living room and into the dining room.  And back into the living room.  And into the dining room.  This cat is in constant need of conquest.  This morning, he managed to track down and slay a blue gel ice pack, which Snarky Son (SS) left on the floor.  (Don’t get me started.)  That poor, floppy ice pack never knew what hit it.  I did, though, thanks to a trail of azure goo.

Likewise, Josie the rescue dog, despite utter exhaustion, can barely doze for more than 30 minutes at a stretch, thanks to regular holiday visits from those three men bearing gifts:  the FedEx man, the UPS man and the mailman.  Oh --  perhaps those bouts of explosive diarrhea could be disrupting her sleep pattern, as well.  After two nights of, well, do I have to describe it?  Can't I just say -- thanks to baby gates -- it was confined to the kitchen?  Anyhow, I finally decided to dose her up on Benefiber and now can’t decide:  Was that caring, controlling or comical?

Let’s not forget SS, who, being deprived of his cell phone and Facebook during exam prep, has resorted to enthusiastically pounding, drumming and thumping on whatever piece of upstairs furniture is immediately over my head, no matter where I am downstairs.  He says it helps him study.  I say even the cast from Stomp couldn’t study with that commotion.  This, after I insisted that a person can't study effectively while talking on the phone.  Or while reading a book.  Or while “listening” on the phone.  That’s right. New rule. No studying while listening on the phone.  Not even on speaker phone.

Darling Daughter (DD), blessedly, has been asleep for over an hour.  I wish it were because she is living up to her reputation as the “Golden Child,” but the sad truth is that she may be coming down with something. She crawled into bed and collapsed well before her usual bedtime tonight, and I've lost count of the number of times I crept upstairs to gently lay an anxious hand on her forehead.

We’re all a little out of sorts right now.  SS is facing his first exam week as a high schooler.  DD, a middle schooler, only has one exam, but it’s also a first for her.  DD’s first basketball game of the season is this Saturday, too.  SS is anticipating driver’s ed instruction later this month.

On top of that, we've got to figure out The Schedule -- who's where and when for the next few weeks -- never a pleasant or easy task for the kids of divorced parents.  And oh yeah, it’s Christmas time, too.  Sigh.

Yep.  We’ve got plenty on our plates, and I know full well what my job is in times like these:  I grease the track.

My job is to make things easy.  To make sure that favorite jeans are clean, favorite snacks are on hand and friendly adults -- repeatedly asking the inocuous "Are you ready for Christmas? -- are fended off.

Likewise, I try to choose meals that are filling, nutritious and, most important, non-controversial.  This is not the time to try out that Julia Child boeuf bourgignon recipe.  Nope. I’m looking for tried and true and loved.  Pasta will surely be playing a leading role these next couple of weeks, with the beloved sausage pasta taking center stage, but tonight, it was meatloaf and mashed potatoes.  And stockings hung with care.

Best Ever Meatloaf

What makes this meatloaf particularly flavorful is the mix of meats.  The recipe makes two loaves, so I cook both, and then, freeze one for dinner at another time.

1 onion, chopped

1 rib celery, chopped

3 cloves garlic, minced

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 pound ground beef

1 pound ground veal

1 pound ground pork

2 eggs

½ cup dried bread crumbs (I use panko)

1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce

¼ cup cream (or milk)

¼ cup minced parsley (unless you’re greasing the track at your own house, then omit, because it’s gross)

1 teaspoon kosher salt

1 teaspoon dried oregano

fresh ground pepper

In a large skillet, sautee onion and celery in olive oil over medium heat.  When vegetables are translucent and slightly browned, stir in garlic, and cook another few minutes, or until garlic is fragrant.  Remove pan from heat.

In a large mixing bowl, combine meats with your hands, using a light touch.  Mix in (still using your hands) eggs, bread crumbs and remaining ingredients, including vegetables.  If you'd like to check for season (and I do), take a tablespoon or so of the meat mixture, flatten into a patty and brown quickly in a skillet.  Taste, and add additional seasoning to the meat mixture as needed.

Divide mixture in half, and shape into two loaves, placing each into a loaf pan.  Bake, in a preheated 350 oven for about 1 hour.  Check for doneness by poking with a skewer or toothpick.  When juices run clear (not pink), meatloaves are ready.  Remove from oven and allow to rest 15 minutes before slicing and serving.

Where Would We Be Without God, Spiderman Underwear and Bacon Bloody Marys?

Some 12 years ago, when Snarky Son (SS) was merely Sweet Son, his preschool class made a Thanksgiving “tree.”  Each child came home clutching a six-inch green felt leaf and was given the assignment of decorating it with a picture of something for which the child felt grateful.  SS didn’t hesitate.  His thankfulness was both sincere and well-placed.  For God.  And Spiderman underpants. 

I think – and laugh – about that every November.  Make no mistake, there are many blessings in my life and I am thankful beyond words for my family and friends, my health and happiness, my faith and freedom, and my country and the honorable men and women who make it a safe home for me and mine.  I can’t even begin to express my gratitude for these life-altering blessings, despite the many times our family has attempted the “write down what you’re thankful for” game at Thanksgiving dinner.

Even so, at this time of year, I can’t help but think of the other blessings in my life, including:

•  My mother and the scales in her guest bathroom.  Mom’s scales are consistently set back about five pounds.  What a gift to any guest silly enough to step on before a holiday meal.  These scales are practically a signed permission slip to head back to the buffet for more mashed potatoes and gravy.  Or just gravy.  And maybe some macaroni and cheese.  For this, I am grateful.

•  Folly River oysters.  OMG.  Salty.  Succulent.  Slurp-worthy.  Dang.  Does anyone know how to clean drool off a keyboard?  For that, I would also be grateful.

•  Christmas music.  For 47 years now, I’ve practically made a career of mangling lyrics.  It was 25 years before I realized that, in Dream On, Steven Tyler of Aerosmith was not crooning “sing women,” but instead “sing with me."  And it turns out that Jimmy Buffett stepped on a poptop in Margaritaville.  Not a Poptart.  Christmas music, mercifully, inundates our eardrums 24/7 for some 45-60 consecutive days of the year.  We begin chanting it before we begin kindergarten.  And we never have to learn new songs or lyrics.  It’s the same.  Every.  Single.  Year.  Perfect for a lyric-impaired-learner (LPL) like me.  For this, I am grateful.

•  Turkey roasted in a brown paper bag.  For details, see “Folly River oysters” above.

•  Krispy Kreme doughnuts.  But I digress.

•  Cell phones.  The only reason this might not make my children’s top five list is because I’m constantly marveling at the ways I can use my cell phone and pointing out to the kids that “back in the day” (not when dinosaurs roamed the earth, but perhaps, sabertoothed tigers), we didn’t even have cordless phones.  We were tethered to the wall – usually in the most popular room in the house – which made those tearful “I know, but WHY are you breaking up with me?” calls all the more painful.  Nowadays, I don’t know how to complete a shopping trip without someone calling me to ask, “Are you still at the store?  Well, can you go back and get some whole cloves/limeade/shoe insole inserts?”  For technology, I am grateful.

•  Food.  I know, it sounds as if I’m about to revisit that whole oyster, turkey, doughnut thing, but my point here is different.  It’s variety I’m talking about.  I still marvel over the fact that there are now some three dozen options in my local Harris Teeter for salad greens.  And you no longer have to purchase parsley in dessicated little flakes, fluttering in a jar suitable for a urine sample.  Fresh is available year-round.  And does anyone else remember the days when there were three types of peas, and all were canned?  Green Giant.  Le Sueur.  And the tragically labeled Generic.

Yep.  I’m plenty grateful.  And grateful to have so many things to be grateful for.  Like this crazy good Bacon Bloody Mary.  Not as giggle-worthy as Spiderman underwear, perhaps, but still, I am grateful.

Bacon Bloody Mary
Note that you have to begin this a couple of weeks in advance – but it’s worth it!  Would make a great holiday hostess gift, too.

Pepper Bacon Vodka
4 cups good quality vodka
1 teaspoon peppercorns
12 strips of bacon, cooked ‘til crisp and drained
1/4 teaspoon Liquid Smoke

Combine all ingredients in a glass pitcher.  Cover and keep in a dark, cool place, allowing it to steep for two to four weeks.  Strain through cheesecloth (or a coffee filter) before serving.  (Discard peppercorns and bacon.)

Bloody Mary Mix
46-ounce bottle V8 juice, chilled
2 cups Pepper Bacon Vodka
Juice of six limes
¼ cup prepared horseradish
2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
½ teaspoon celery seeds

Garnish
Crisp strips of bacon
Lime wedges
Celery sticks

Combine all ingredients in a large pitcher.  Stir well, and serve over ice, garnishing with bacon, etc.