At 70 mph!

In this age of far-flung families and loved ones, Christmas has become a treacherous time – or so went my thoughts yesterday as we barreled over ‘the grapevine’ at 70 mph. It was bumper-to-bumper most of the time and whenever a car’s length opened up some yay-hoo crossed three or four lanes of traffic to whip into the space – like that would get them there quicker. It was a nightmare.

Charlie’s House

I’m not sure when we began spending every other Christmas in Los Angeles with Charlie. It was probably in the nineties when he bought his house and could accommodate all of us. In those days we flew down in deference to my mother, then in her eighties, but that, too, was stressful. In 1999 she announced “never again” and Christmas festivities for our family returned to Oysterville until 2009, our first Christmas without her.

Julia Jefferson Espy’s Oyster Recipe

Now, as the family elder, I’m wondering if it’s my turn yet to say “never again” to this biannual journey. On the one hand I’m not quite as old as mom was when she gave up traveling; on the other I don’t have a spritely young couple (that would have been us!) to escort us to and fro. Like Scarlett (or was it Rhett?) in “Gone with the Wind,” I’ll think about that tomorrow. Or more likely… the day after tomorrow.

For now, the sun is shining, the air is mild, there are oranges on the trees and roses in the gardens. Charlie’s tree is up, the garlands are in place and all the ingredients are ready for me to make our traditional December 24^th meal of baked oysters. There’s lots to be said for Christmas in Southern California. It’s just the sleigh ride that’s tricky.