Jane Austen Update (Weekend Reads)

So... it's been two and a half years since I confessed that I hadn't read any Jane Austen. I thought I would give you an update.

I've read three now - Sense and Sensibility, Pride and Prejudice, and Mansfield Park. Phew.

Here is the next shocking confession: I didn't particularly like them. Now, I didn't hate them, but I certainly didn't love them. And I expected to love them. When faced with an evening alone and the TV to myself I search for a period drama. I love Downton as much as as anyone else (and boy are there plenty of parallels between Downton and Austen). I adored all the Bronte books when I read them. But, at times, these three Austen books were a bit of a slog to get through. I finished Mansfield Park at some point last winter and decided to take a break from Austen.

I'm not dismissing their value as literature of the the English language, nor the enormity of their story and the fact that they were written by a woman. There were, however, many, many times that the detail was intense and the plot very, very slow. More than once I wished the BBC had done a miniseries on all of the books.

(As an aside, I do totally get the Colin Firth thing now.)

You know what? I think I would have loved these if I read them in my 20s. When I had a romantic view of romance and still thought drama in a relationship was admirable. I too was daydreaming of marriage and that being an end result as opposed to a beginning. Now, approaching 40, I consider it romantic when my Hubby empties the dishwasher and drama means The Evil Genius thinks the world is out to get her again.

Don't worry, I'm not giving up. I will finish the other three, maybe even this year. I've got lots of tea on hand.

Friday Favourite - Hoarfrost

It's snowing again here. And by again I need to point out that we've had snow on the ground since before Halloween. I clearly remember leaving a thunderstorm in Houston at Quilt Market and returning to a storm here. Winter is long. That's why you have to take the pleasure where you find, embrace the beauty too. Whether it be...

... a perfectly shovelled walk (yes, there is such a thing).
... snow angels.
... any time spent in the mountains.
... the fields of straw covered in snow against a blue sky.
... skating on the outdoor ice.
... buildings snow forts and mazes in parks.
... snowball fights.
... the quiet that envelopes the world when the snow falls.
... hoarfrost.

Oh, hoarfrost. I revel in hoarfrost in the winter like I do a good thunderstorm in the summer. Weather is going to happen so let it give you a thrill!

Sometimes you go to bed knowing it will happen. It is cool, but not warm and you can feel humidity in the air. Sometimes it is a Christmas morning surprise when you wake up and the world is white. Not the ground and the tops of the trees only, everything is white. And it is magical and pretty and you can't help but twitterpate.

For those of us who like to take pictures you wish the sun would come out a bit so the light makes the world even more magical. But that is a terminal wish because the sun causes all those fragile crystals coating the world to melt and drift away. So go for a walk, sit in the window with tea, or look through the branches and the beauty.

Tell Me About Yourself

Some say that blogs are going the way of the dinosaur. It may or may not be true, but I truly enjoy this space and have no plans to go anywhere. That being said, some changes are coming. I would love your feedback and a bit of information about you, my readers, to help guide my journey.

Could you please take a few minutes to answer these questions? It will help me understand my audience here at Dining Room Empire and be able to provide content you are interested in.

The survey will be open until January 10 at 11:00 pm.

And when you are done the survey, please leave a comment letting me know you answered. There will be a give-away of fabric, books, and more for all survey respondents.

Click here to take survey

Thank you so for your feedback.
Thank you for continuing to join me here.

Thank You for Making it Special

My son gave me a cold for Christmas. It's been well over a year since I suffered the indignity of this much snot. Right when he was born, come to think of it. My already easy going holiday became much more low key because of it. I also got very reflective. Very, very reflective.

Not to throw him under the bus, but my husband wasn't much help. Super stressed at work and fighting a nagging injury that won't heal rendered him tired and grumpy and only up for a few things. So, despite my cold, it fell mostly to me to do the things like find the decorations, bake the bread for breakfast, buy all the groceries, and cook a turkey dinner. And change the diapers and make sure there was real food consumed among the sugar. I am as tired as the up-early and burnt out by noon child in all of our homes right now.

So, back to being reflective. This holiday, seven years into motherhood (eight if you could being pregnant), I've realized that if it wasn't for Mamas Christmas would really, really suck.

Yes, the fathers do a good job with what they do, and there are a few who adore Christmas and go all out with their ugly sweaters, hot wheels tracks, and light shows. There are also fathers who are alone and do it all themselves and turn out some very magical affairs. But it is the Mamas who make it special for the vast majority of us.

Mama is the only who buys or loads the advent calendar despite the fact that it drives us insane both that they beg for candy every day this way and that it forces an impatient countdown we have to live with for twenty five days. Mama is the one who bakes - with or without the kids along side - for countless teacher gifts, neighbours, Santa's plate, and all the leftovers we likely eat ourselves. Mama is also the one who usually remembers the teacher's gifts. Mama is the one that remembers the random statement about yet another useless toy and gives up her precious babysitter time to drive across town for it.

Mama is also the one that gets the stockings out and makes sure there are oranges in the house to stuff in their toes. Mama buys the candles to line the table so the meal feels extra fancy to a five year old. Mama makes sure the party dresses are clean just in case someone wants to dress up for dinner.

And then Mama is the one who has to say no to TV for the few days of holidays. And Mama makes sure everyone gets outside for sledding even though the new toys, and their wrappers, beckon. Or Mama is the one who gets up early when even though the kids stayed up late they awake wired and ready to go.

The traditions are the family's, but it is Mama who makes sure they happen each year. It is Mama who sacrifices her time on the beach to make pyrohy in a vacation beach rental because we always have pyrohy on Christmas Eve. It is Mama who makes a second batch of Christmas Tree Bun because your family devoured it before Hubby got any and it is his family's deal anyway. It is Mama who makes collects toilet paper rolls to make personal Christmas Crackers.

Making the holiday special is far from a thankless task for a Mama. It may the one time - whether it is Christmas or Yom Kippur or Eid or Festivus - where our work to do things for our family is truly noticed and appreciated. So much work, but worth every late night, every elbows up shopping trip, every flour covered nose, every sticky floor to see the light on their faces at something truly special, the giggles of a family treasure, the insistence on the tradition. I don't care that I didn't get a single thank you - other than the quiet one when she got to play without an audience. Actions speak louder than words and I know they had their moments of glee and I had something to do with them.

It was only this year, perhaps clouded by the whiskey I was using to kill the cold virus, that I realized just how much my Mom did to make our holidays special. And just why it hurts when that day comes when your kids don't show up and let the Mama do her job. When we grow up and move away we change the traditions, we take away the opportunity for Mama to make us feel special. We think we're doing her a favour, easing her burden. We don't understand her lamentations about how things just aren't the same anymore. We don't realize that we've taken away a chance for her to deliver without thanks, to make us feel special by doing the Mommiest of Mommy things.

So, to my Mom, thank you. Thank you for your endless baking of rogalki and whipped shortbread and Christmas Jewels, for spending a week in the kitchen to cook two meals that we practically inhaled, for doing the dishes while we played an old version of Trivial Pursuit or Life while Dad shouted out the answers, for making spinach dip every New Year's Eve, and for snuggling us when the party after midnight mass got to be too much. Thank you for letting me steal some of those traditions for my family. Thank you for letting me come to this realization myself. Thank you for bringing special to me.

Merry Christmas.