We lit two sets of candles for Hanukkah – the real one in the kitchen and the electric one at the window next to the Christmas wreath. On the first night Scott really wanted to make latkes, but we had just come back from NY the night before and didn’t have time to shred potatoes. He scoured the internet for a Jewish deli and found two in a 15 mile radius. Alas, Geiberman’s was closed and Katz New York Deli did not actually exist. We were starved and missing our scrumptious meal in Dallas the year before. Out of desperation I suggested that we go to Golden Corral. I figured they would at least have hash browns which would be as close as we could get to a latke that night.
Golden Corral did not have hash browns but they did have fried potatoes in various forms. I would like to think that we observed the Hanukkah tradition as least in spirit but in reality we were both quite disgusted with our dining experience.
That night we exchanged gifts for Hanukkah. I got to pick one from the four that Scott had been amassing over the past few weeks. I felt guilty as the only gift I had for him to open was a rolled up tube of computer printout in gift wrap. The rest was on its way via UPS aka Santa who thankfully only required a 2-day notice.
The computer printout was a surprise that contained two tickets to the Panthers game, which was one of the things that Scott had wanted to do as a local. The game was on the day before Christmas, and we walked the 1.5 miles to the stadium. Despite seats that were
almost as far up in height, we had a good view of the game and saw the touchdowns that led the Panthers to victory. I was happy about the win but I was more excited about the blue and white Panther paw that was sprayed on my cheek. Walking around with the glittery paw on my cheek made me feel like a proper Charlottean.Some of the other gifts included a slow cooker, a slow cooker cookbook, fuzzy slippers, pajama pants, and a tea strainer. It might be the start of a dangerous trend. “Look honey, I got you a food processor for Valentine’s Day!" I can just see it.
On Christmas day we took a leisurely walk around the neighborhood where Scott took me on a tour of shuttered factories, abandoned warehouses, a toxic creek and plots of land overgrown with weeds and strewn with rusty pickup trucks. We walked past what looked like mobile homes on cinder blocks before venturing into a neighborhood where, with the exception of a couple of renovated homes, houses looked rundown and where a vintage Jaguar missing its rear wheel was left for what looked like its final resting place. No one besides us was on the streets and when it started to get dark, I called an end to our neighborhood exploration.
On our way out we came upon a hill that overlooked Uptown Charlotte. Instead of the traditional green and red, the iconic Duke Energy Tower was lit up in rainbow colors. We speculated on whether that was to resemble Christmas lights or the rainbow flag, and we decided that it was the former.
Of course, no Christmas is complete without a gingerbread house. I am smarter now than to attempt making one from scratch - which had resulted in collapsing roofs and gooey messes in the past - and used a fully equipped kit instead. Scott had no interest in the building process but did participate in its destruction moments later to satisfy his tastebuds.
Of course, no Christmas is complete without a gingerbread house. I am smarter now than to attempt making one from scratch - which had resulted in collapsing roofs and gooey messes in the past - and used a fully equipped kit instead. Scott had no interest in the building process but did participate in its destruction moments later to satisfy his tastebuds.
We had a mellow New Year’s Eve at home with a few friends where the most spirited conversation revolved around whether a fire with flames or amber was a better fire.
Early in the evening we were huddling around the
mobile fire pit in our corner of the parking lot when the debate started. Tony liked the big flames that rose up and licked the air, while Dave preferred smolders from wood that burned into charcoal. Much discussion went into building the perfect teepee of firewood and concerns were voiced when not enough air was let in to fuel a bigger fire. Scott stayed out of the debate but stoked the fire in a few strategic moves to address the concerns.
Early in the evening we were huddling around the
mobile fire pit in our corner of the parking lot when the debate started. Tony liked the big flames that rose up and licked the air, while Dave preferred smolders from wood that burned into charcoal. Much discussion went into building the perfect teepee of firewood and concerns were voiced when not enough air was let in to fuel a bigger fire. Scott stayed out of the debate but stoked the fire in a few strategic moves to address the concerns. If not for the Justin wine bottles, stemmed wine glasses and the charcuterie and cheese platter, we could have easily been mistaken as hobos.
The rest of the evening was spent examining our latest slow cooker creation: lemon garlic chicken with artichokes. There was also more wine, more friends, and bubblies to ring in the New Year.
The rest of the evening was spent examining our latest slow cooker creation: lemon garlic chicken with artichokes. There was also more wine, more friends, and bubblies to ring in the New Year.
Choosing which station to watch the countdown brought another bout of debate. We settled on several minutes of a Cold Play concert before realizing it had nothing to do with New Years. After fumbling around for a couple more minutes, we found Dick Clark, and all was well.
In those 10 seconds, seeing the familiar streets of New York, I was awash in a wave of nostalgia. But seconds later, being in our new home and surrounded by new friends, I was filled with the sense of a new beginning.
In those 10 seconds, seeing the familiar streets of New York, I was awash in a wave of nostalgia. But seconds later, being in our new home and surrounded by new friends, I was filled with the sense of a new beginning.
I hope everyone had a great beginning to 2012. Happy New Year!
The Biltmore is a castle in the mountains built by George Vanderbilt in 1895. The main house has 255 rooms and the rest of the 8,000 acre property includes a winery, gardens, an inn and restaurants. For the holiday season the whole house lights up with Christmas decorations and is an especially pretty sight at night.
