December 29, 2025Monday, December 29, 2025

Just a thought… I don’t need a recipe for disaster. I usually just eyeball it. [Etsy poster, author unknown]

Well, for this final journal of 2025 I had a whole red-and-white-dyed post about what we learned this year about being Canadian. But you already know all of that. So I thought I’d tell you the tale of how Christmas dinner this year very nearly went sideways.

We have so many holidays we remember fondly from happier times: even just last year, a lively house party hosted by friends during our final Christmas (perhaps ever) in the US lifted our spirits and gave us a generous serving of joy. Here’s a shot from 2024, in the “before” times.

This year’s Christmas was memorable for the very real possibility that dinner was almost dead on arrival. It began on the 23^rd when I was shaking so hard with nerves at the grocery store that a little girl helped me to open those hellish produce bags! I’ll tell that story this Thursday on Ep 158 of Gracefully and Frankly, which begins a whole new year on January 1^st. Lisa Brandt and I can’t wait! Don’t miss out.

So, I got the groceries. I already had a smoked turkey from an earlier trip, from when Rob was here several weeks ago and we opted to try something new, and it was thawing in the fridge. I decided to surprise him with acorn squash as a side dish to accompany his mashed potatoes and canned corn. Stuffing is not a thing down here and this girl was not going to try it from scratch, at least not without a full spice rack; we have only salt and pepper.

On the 24^th, I thought it might be wise to make sure the oven worked. I turned the dial on the Whirlpool gas range, clicked the starter and heard the satisfying sparking, but it was on the front burner on top. I could see no spark down below, and felt no heat from the oven. But, oh, I did smell gas, so I decided to space out the attempts.

When I reached out to the owner of our house (a native Mexican who lives near LA), she told me she’d never tried the oven! I mean, I can relate, but it didn’t help me. Rob checked the internet and did all the research he could from afar, but alas, no answers to our particular problem.

The next day, Christmas, Rob and I texted back and forth. At one point he said, “Let’s just barbecue burgers and I’ll try to fix the oven.” (He’s like that.) And I said, “No, I’m going to heat this thing on the grill.”

At about 2 pm, figuring on his arrival at 5, I started up the ‘cue, thankful that Rob had bought charcoal on his November visit (gas barbecues are not a big thing here). I hadn’t used the grill since.

I covered the bird, added a large tetra of apple juice to the bottom of the pan for steaming, and let it more or less steam/bake.

An hour later, I added a pan with two halves of one of the squashes. Also covered and in a bit of water, they baked on the grill for the duration.

Rob finally got home just around 6 pm and by that time I was pretty confident I had dinner in hand. After a boisterous welcome from all three of his girls (Dottie, Livi and me) we sat down to a table decorated only with two tea lights I’d picked up while getting groceries, and here was our feast.

The only gifts were tiny treats I bought Rob, and one box of sugar-free chocolates for me. He also delighted me by opening, not a sack of presents, but a backpack with things I’d texted him to bring weeks ago, which ended up being surprises on their own: oil for a defuser, a new colour polish, a packet of turkey gravy mix – stuff like that.

The dinner and its leftovers (which we are still enjoying on this Monday night) were a success, despite the obstacles set in our way. I felt like I’d accomplished something pretty big by putting on my big girl apron and figuring out a charcoal barbecue for what I needed to do. Thank heavens the microwave didn’t die on me!

Instead of collapsing in a bundle of doubt and self-pity, I got dinner done. The turkey was admittedly a little dry, but the huge strawberry tres leches cake I picked out more than made up for it. For four nights.

If there’s a moral to all of this, it’s just to prepare what you can and then roll with whatever happens. 2025 has taught us that and while we can’t possibly know what the year ahead will bring, just believing “we’ve got this” is half the battle.

Let’s raise a toast to Canada on Wednesday night. May she (and we) remain strong and free. United, connected, dedicated and grateful. Always grateful.