Last night Seth and I finished watching "Julie & Julia" - which was fabulous - and I looked online for roast duck recipes. The number of food blogs available made me think, unfortunately not for the first time, "Hey, I could write a food blog! I eat; I cook; I take pictures; it would be cool!"
Then I had the realistic thought: "Who gives a fuck what I eat? I already ask people to read about my life and now I want them to know about my diet, as well? Oh, how vain I can be."
There is also the sad fact that I rarely cook in Uganda so my posts would read something like, "I bought a pineapple and ate it for dinner." Fascinating.
However, if you are curious please rest assured that I am not losing any weight, so I am eating in food in some combination of delicious; bad for you; and copious quantities.
And fruit. I also eat fruit.
Now you know. And know I have to run to the kitchen because I hear the sounds of my chicken stock boiling over.
It smells delicious.
Last year the holiday was an extrememly odd time for me: first Christmas without both parents; first away from family; first in a Muslim country. The lack of ubiquitous seasonal decorations and music coupled with my continuing grief left me, for the first time, not caring at all about the holiday despite it also being the first Christmas with Seth. We did have our little tree, which I took great care and tenderness to decorate, but neither it nor gifts could diminsh my apathetic attitude. I wondered if it would continue from then on, making me yet another person who dislikes Christmas because of the conflicting and troubling emotions it brings.
Fortunately, that hasn't happened. "It never gets easier, just different"; so true. Besides, what sort of lasting tribute would it be the my mother, the human embodiment of Christmas spirit, if I were to hate the holiday season because of her absence? Or my father, who, despite always grumbling about the excessive decorations in the house, smiled whenever he looked at the lit tree and played Christmas music all day long.
And so this year my spirit has returned, remembering and mourning those who are gone but grateful and happy for my life as it is now. Seth, being the wonderful man he is, bought a larger tree for the apartment and helped decorate it, even gathering an old sheet to act as the skirt. Plus, we are hosting a Christmas Eve dinner; how festive is that?
To those in the States, and elsewhere, I wish you a very Merry Christmas. 
And offer some holiday lights, courtesy of the Kuwait oil fields.
And fruit. I also eat fruit.
Now you know. And know I have to run to the kitchen because I hear the sounds of my chicken stock boiling over.
