Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas from the Hofmanns! Yes, I know. I'm so big, I'm blocking the Christmas tree.

My cranberry upside-down cake.

Christmas Eve dinner table. Set for two. Even Miss Charlotte received gifts! Here, the evidence that Mums thought she was going to be a boy. However, should this child inherit Chris's frame rather than mine, I think we'll have ourselves a softball player. Can you say "scholarship"? Christmas morning breakfast. Chris thought it was excessive to post two photos of the table, but I love my holiday tables. And this one is totally different. I mean, for starters, it's daytime.

Doing nada. And see the fog that rolled in?

Merry Christmas, y’all! Chris and I enjoyed a very quiet, very special Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. After dragging ourselves to work on Christmas Eve, I realized that I was the only person at work on my entire floor. The. Entire. Floor. One of the mailroom guys eventually came by and, bless him, locked up the floor so no crazy folk could break in. I get into work at 7:30 a.m., and around 10:00 I e-mailed my boss and told (told, not asked) her that I was leaving at noon. She signed off on it (because she’s awesome) and at noon, I high-tailed it down to Friendship Heights, dodged the last-minute shoppers, and met my guy for lunch. After lunch, Chris had another hour or so before the GEICO elves would be freed, so I chatted with Mums on the phone and then grabbed a couple stocking stuffers for Chris. Finally, Chris called and we were BOTH DONE WITH WORK! As soon as we got home, we began our Christmas Eve preparations. I was beside myself because I couldn’t find the iron (yes, I have not ironed once since moving to the apartment) and the dryer did nil to get the wrinkles out of the tablecloth. And, being me, I wanted everything to be PERFECT. Chris, who typically ascends to superhero status on Christmas (he knows how important it is!), told me, “You deserve a wrinkle-free tablecloth on Christmas,” and into the storage boxes (which were in a room about 30 chilly degrees or so) he went. Triumphantly, he emerged with the iron. And so my tablecloth was freshly pressed. And yes, it mattered. Greatly. I made my cranberry upside-down cake, a Christmas staple for the past four years or so. Chris tasted the batter and murmured, “Mmmmmm. That takes me back.” “Takes you back?” I asked, slightly offended. After all, this is MY recipe. “Takes you back to what?” “Takes me back to other Christmases. You know, where you made this cake.” Smirking like an idiot, I returned to my baking, thrilled that Chris and I already have some of our own Christmas traditions and memories. Meanwhile, Chris made the German potato salad and green beans, not to mention the ham—which, for reasons we still haven’t figured out, took about twice as long to cook than expected. This was fine, though. It gave me time to set my pretty table and then, with Christmas music playing and candles lit, we kicked back and chatted until (a late) dinner. Dinner was awesome, as expected, and once everything was all cleaned up, we settled in for gift-opening. Growing up, both of our families opened gifts on Christmas Eve (although stockings and stuff from Santa were opened on Christmas morning in my family). We had a lovely, cozy, intimate Christmas Eve with just the two of us, taking our time and enjoying the night and each other. Was it hard to be away from our families? Sure. But before we were married, Chris and I spent plenty of Christmases apart, which was just as difficult. I mean, we were smitten with each other but not able to share Christmas together! THAT will never happen again. We slept in on Christmas morning and, after the coffee (Starbucks Christmas blend, courtesy of Mums!) was poured, we opened stockings. We had a yummy Christmas brunch with omelets and then began a very busy day of doing NOTHING, short of scoping out the next day’s sales. Super thick fog rolled in, adding a cozy specialness to the day. Chris watched a Mythbusters marathon while I read and read. And wrote this blog post. Hofmann tradition involves having a turkey dinner on Christmas night, so a bird is already in the oven and another evening of feasting is ahead of us. We’ve enjoyed a genuinely happy, slow-paced, beautiful Christmas—and we hope you have had one equally lovely!