Crown Roast
I wrote the start of this post last night but I guess it got lost in the digital mix. It happens. I was writing about a special sort of roast. When Abby and I had just moved in to our old place in Burlington we celebrated our first Christmas there, and our first Christmas as two people who were engaged to one another. A central part of that celebration was the roast Abby made. It was very fancy and very good.
This Christmas we’ll be celebrating a new sort of Christmas again, and we’ll be doing it with that same roast. It feels like bookends to the beginning. Chapter headings, maybe those scrolly little letters that mark sections of a story.
Our first Christmas with Roby.
That first Christmas in Burlington brought both sides of our family together, and this one will be doing that again. Potentially for the last time. Now’s the days when folks start having kids, and that tends to fractal a family. Sending one couple this way and another that.
Christmas at Mom’s, Thanksgiving at Dad’s, this is where it starts. I’m pretty glad we can see it from here, over there. We can enjoy a Christmas together before we’re pulled apart by the requirements of family and family making.
I’m sure the roast is going to be incredible, too.
I wonder if I’ll have much time to think about the meaning of Christmas in a more traditional religious sense. I’m fairly sure I will, because I do. Having a child around Christmas time can’t help but make you think of the Christ Child and of Mary. It’s tough not to think Roby’s as perfect as the former and Abby the latter.
This Christmas we’ll be celebrating a new sort of Christmas again, and we’ll be doing it with that same roast. It feels like bookends to the beginning. Chapter headings, maybe those scrolly little letters that mark sections of a story.
Our first Christmas with Roby.
That first Christmas in Burlington brought both sides of our family together, and this one will be doing that again. Potentially for the last time. Now’s the days when folks start having kids, and that tends to fractal a family. Sending one couple this way and another that.
Christmas at Mom’s, Thanksgiving at Dad’s, this is where it starts. I’m pretty glad we can see it from here, over there. We can enjoy a Christmas together before we’re pulled apart by the requirements of family and family making.
I’m sure the roast is going to be incredible, too.
I wonder if I’ll have much time to think about the meaning of Christmas in a more traditional religious sense. I’m fairly sure I will, because I do. Having a child around Christmas time can’t help but make you think of the Christ Child and of Mary. It’s tough not to think Roby’s as perfect as the former and Abby the latter.