Cure for the Christmas Rush... Move to China

    Since we’ve moved to China I have the curious feeling that I’m on vacation.  I guess with my location being so different, it just feels like “vacation” is the right way to handle things.  Except I’m not, really.  I do have a church calling, but it doesn’t take as much time as my previous callings did.  I do have a family to take care of, but I have an ayi who does all the cleaning, washing, ironing, bed-making, bathroom cleaning, and keeping the place looking spotless, except on the weekends.  I do get to cook.  My days are pretty free, which is nice because it seems that there are frequents lunches to get to know someone who has just moved in or say goodbye to someone moving home.  So my stress levels are pretty low, and I have only had one minor migraine since moving here.  

Hmmm.  Maybe they WERE caused by stress.

     I have had a harder time getting caught up in the Christmas rush this year, and that’s good… and bad.

     Again, I don’t feel stressed—that’s good.  But I’m also not getting things done, and that’s bad.  No Christmas cards done, no shopping done (but there are some reasons for that—our internet has been abysmally slow the past half month and most of what I need needs to be done on the internet); no holiday baking, no bustle and rush, and although each year I decry the pace and wish to just slow down and enjoy it, somehow it just isn’t the same.  No “25 Days of Christmas” programming on TV to flip on and have a sappy Christmas movie going on in the background as I finish up a project or wrap gifts. 

    But I did get some baking done—almost by accident.  On Monday, I suddenly realized we ALWAYS do baking on the first Monday in December (if not before) in order to have goodies to take visiting teaching or to neighbors.  So just after the ayi finished cleaning the kitchen in the morning I got out the KitchenAid, plugged in the transformer (so I don’t burn out my machine on the Chinese electricity), and set about making Christmas cookies.  Our oven is small, but I’m not complaining (too much!) because most Chinese homes do not even have ovens—they do not bake anything.  So, it only fits one cookie sheet at a time, and baking two batches of cookies takes at least a movie to finish.  (I brought out my laptop, set it on the counter and put on a DVD). 

Then in the evening after the girls got home, we did the frosting.  Ellie had too much homework so she just listened in, and Kevin was in India on a business trip.   We watched the First Presidency’s Christmas Devotional on the internet as we decorated and added sprinkles.

They looked “just like home” and taste just as good.  (Alice took some to the Korean student she is tutoring and she thought they were too sweet).

Yup, that’s what the Chinese think of American cookies. They don’t like them because of the sweetness—and I have to admit, they are REALLY sweet.

 For the first time in many years, I made candy cane cookies.  It had seemed before that the two colors (made in separate ropes, then twisted together) easily broke apart and were less than satisfactory.  I accidentally solved that problem.  After the twist is made, roll the entwined rope again—the two colors adhere to each other better and form a smooth cookie.  And then, since we Americans like our cookies SWEET, we piped some frosting to outline. 

 I even made some chocolate Christmas molds.  In our shipment were some bars of really good chocolate--but being in a hot metal container in July just murdered them.  The chocolate is whitish and crumbly.  I experimented with the bar of orange pecan chocolate. I melted it with a tablespoon or two of butter, and it reconstituted beautifully! Then I put it in the molds to harden in the fridge. 

 Smooth and delicious!  

I'm glad to know all that chocolate isn't worthless after all.