Sunday, December 25, 2016
Christmas under a southern sun. It had been two years since my last Christmas at home.
I love fruit cake and fir trees in the dark, cold North, but here in the Cape our tree is a small, indigenous Gardenia thunbergia in a pot, and supper was eaten on the patio, in the long, bright evening after a hot day. At 8.30pm it was still light as we sipped the chilled asparagus soup my mom had made. There was a red pepper mousse, roast lamb, and meringue with fresh cherries and cream.
In New York the Frenchman went on a ramble to Jamaica Bay, in a T-shirt, so perhaps the weather is catching. I miss him.
We are reaching the end of a strange year. I wish you strength and grace, and humor, and the courage to do better than ever before in the uncertain days that lie ahead.