Christmas Traditions, Part Two

A few more fun things I remember about Christmas at our house. Please feel free to share your own Christmas memories!!


Christmas Socks
Every year on Christmas Eve, our "stocking" were hung by the fire with care. Mom would take three of Dad's old "stockings" ( long, black socks) and tack them to the mantle. Santa would then come that night and fill them with a handful of hard candy--you know, the striped kind you can only find during the holidays--one large orange and a few nuts. When we little ones awoke in the morning we would find our Christmas Socks hanging there, all long and lumpy and ready to be pillaged. The orange and nuts were quickly discarded in favor of the Christmas candy stuffed deep down in the toe. Due to the heat of the fire, the candy would have formed into a hard, sticky lump, all covered with sock lint. Naturally, we didn't dig in right away. There were so many non-fuzzy things to eat lying around from the previous night's party, there was no rush. By about December 27th, though, pickins were slim and that hard, fuzzy clump of stickiness was lookin' mighty tasty. You could chip it apart with a butter knife and, once you sucked off that first layer of lint, it really was pretty good.
I remember realizing, in later years that most people had actual Christmas "stockings", all cheerfully decorated and never having had anyone's foot actually inside of them, in which they received pre-wrapped candy and little toys. But by then, the tradition was formed and Christmas wouldn't have seemed quite right without those long, black socks over the fireplace and a big ole' lump of furry candy to chip away on. :0)

Christmas Morn
Me and Em shared a bedroom for many of our growing up years. Prior to Em's arrival, Melissa and I roomed together. So there were always two sister's in a room on Christmas morning. Whichever sister first opened their eyes on that happy morning, would turn to the one still sleeping and whisper loudly what were quite possibly the five most exciting words a kid can hear "Hey. Wake up....it's Christmas!". I can remember being awoken by those words and I can also remember being the one whispering them. Didn't matter who said it, the reaction was always the same. Giant smiles and bolting from beneath the covers to fly towards the Front Room. The tension was almost unbearable as you slowed down and rounded that last corner in a kind of silent awe. Santa always brought our gifts in an unwrapped state, so when you did round that corner it was a visual feast! Each of us flew to the spot where our gifts were set up and ooohed and aaahed and showed off our bounty to one another. Then we would go in and wake up Mom--this was usually at like 5:00am---to bring her in and show her what Santa had left for each of us.
Mom always insisted that Dad be allowed to sleep in for a while longer before we woke him up, too. The wrapped presents were not to be touched until Dad was up. This was tough. REALLY tough. It would take hours...many,many, many hours before we were allowed to timidly poke our head through the bedroom door and ask Dad to get up. OK, maybe it wasn't actually hours, but it may as well have been an eternity!! Dad would eventually join us, and the rest of the gifts would be opened in a cloud of wrapping paper and bows and all the happiness that giving and receiving brings.

Oyster Stew at Uncle Ralph's
Later in the day, as things settled down, PJ's were exchanged for dressier apparel and we all loaded up and headed over to Uncle Ralph's for some homemade oyster stew. The mixture of aromas when you walked in to that house was always a combination of cigar smoke, expensive perfume and delicious oyster stew. Smiling aunts and uncles and cousins were very happy to see us and plied us with sweets and treats of all sorts.
I'll always have etched in my mind the memory of a larger-than-life Uncle Ralph in his kitchen tending the giant pot of delicious smelling stew; big spoon in one hand, wine glass in the other and the ever-present cigar stub (with the ash always poised to fall,
but never actually dropping) grasped firmly between his lips.