We’ll take down our cheery decorations with the coming of the cultural New Year. I’ve laid in a supply of collard greens and black-eyed peas, have procured a Boston butt roast and some streaky chicken for the crackling corn bread.
But tonight, we made tamales for the first time. I have loved them since I was a kid and my mother would buy them in the store, in a can with some dubious red sauce. I get them at restaurants sometimes and I like those–plus they didn’t seem like they’d be very hard. We got masa and corn husks at the grocery store and looked up a way to make them in the oven, instead of steaming them on top of the stove.
They were pretty tasty.
It has been a good season–one in which I’ve actually gotten a bit of rest. There are several writing projects (as well as these two blogs) that need to be attended to and I am certain the Muse will return to live in the plant beside my desk. But for now, I’m cooking, cleaning, resting and spending time in simple pursuits.
I do have a wonderful batch of on-line students who are learning the ways and wiles of Appalachian folk magic. They write beautiful prose about the places where they live and about their lives, and I am certainly enjoying our interactions.
I’m organizing several events in the next few months and need to get on the planning for this Britain trip in July. See, I’m already making those all-important lists but am still waiting for the necessary energy to leap into action. Soon, I think. I can feel it bubbling along the edges of my waking mind and lurking in the recesses of my sleeping head.
What will you do to commemorate the changing of the cultural year? Drink champagne? Go to a costume party? Stay home and watch old movies?
Since the year changed for me at the beginning of November and again at the Winter Solstice, I believe I’ll let this one pass with the usual Appalachian accouterments.
And I’ll focus my vision on the coming of Brigid in February.