As I type this, an enormous pot of pea soup is bubbling away on our stove. For me, January is as much about pea soup as anything: as is tradition, the bone of the Christmas ham has been added to the pot, a signal to the end of holiday excesses.
Anyone who knows my family knows that our Christmases are steeped in tradition; almost every move can be choreographed from the cumulation of many years prior. This year, a breath of fresh air came in the form of a change of venue: my sister took on hosting responsibilities. Scott was the self-appointed tradition cop, making sure she stuck to the song sheet closely enough that his own favourites were preserved, namely bacon and sausage included in breakfast (from a specific shop, mind you) champagne and orange mimosas, and of course the Christmas ham, which he and I have adopted as our contribution.
Christmas day was followed by a relaxing few days on Vancouver Island with Scott's family, followed by ringing in the New Year at Whistler: every day included many happy hours spent with family and friends.
And now a little relief and recovery from all the excitement. This weekend Scott and I are putting our house back to order and organizing our thoughts and plans for the coming year. Already there's lots to look forward to, and every day seems to bring a new adventure. And I'm looking forward to it... just as soon as I finish my pea soup.
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