We stayed up later than usual this Christmas Eve. Deb and I finally decided to turn in around 2:30 am, but we didn't stress because our kids, now 17 and 16 would not be up at the crack of dawn begging us to go downstairs to see what Santa had left. Those days are over.
I clearly remember long past Christmas Eves where Deb and I, like many other parents would be up until the weary hours of the night, wrapping, and assembling the kids booty. My most favorite and equally horrifying memory is that of opening a Fischer Price remote control car and track we had bought for Zach. I was relieved and elated when I opened the huge four foot long box to find that there were only a small number of pieces to assemble. My happiness turned into horror when the four foot long sheet of stickers slipped out of the box. Every flag, every wheel cover, and even the white lines on the road had to be affixed with the corresponding sticker. It was like some evil half assed sobriety check, but I digress.
Our kids now would more likely have to be woken up around 10:00 or even later, so we slept soundly with no need to arise and no need to travel. It was Vanessa who stood over our kig size bed at 7:20. Not too early, but I was certainly not ready to step out. I asked her to wake Zach and have him come in to our bedroom. Zach came in and joined Vanessa, Deb, myself, not to mention dogs Bean and George.
The six of us laid in the king size bed under the covers and talked. No television, no phone, no texts and no distractions were present as the four of us shared stories of Christmas days' past. We smiled, giggled and laughed for the next 40 minutes or so, then we sprang into Christmas action. There were presents to open and a house to prepare for the throngs of friends and neighbors that would share our day, and a great day it was, but it couldn't and wouldn't equal those first minutes where we hung out together under the covers.
It was an unplanned magical little moment that has earned a place in the Calabrese Christmas Memory Hall of Fame and I think it was the coolest thing ever.
The other group of people I had the pleasure of meeting were the finalists in the Miss Northern Ireland Pageant. They were staying at the same hotel as I and I had the pleasure of speaking to a few of them. It was an interesting exchange. They were very young and very beautiful and I asked them questions about the pageant, life in Ireland, and what interesting places I should visit. In turn they seemed interested in me and asked me questions as well. “What are the States like? Have you ever been to New York and…What’s the secret to a long life?”
Prosciutto. It was called Joselito Gran Reserva and definitely lived up to its name. One thing that you can be sure of is that I represented U.S. consumption by sitting on a bench and eating a whole ball of cheese, not to mention all of the other aforementioned culinary goodies. 
hotel. It's a great little place with interesting food. I sat at the bar, first and foremost because I was alone, but also because I could watch the chef and staff work. I also had my book club reading with me. I read a few pages while I dined on spiced tuna carpaccio with sliced fennel and mandarin orange slices. Then an order of fresh roasted partridge, fingerling potato and banana shallots. I've never had partridge before and I was surprised how difficult it was to eat. I tried using a fork and knife but it was too unwieldy, so I started picking it apart with my fingers. This must have been wrong, because the waitstaff came over to me with a finger bowl full of water and sliced lemon and not one but three cloth napkins. Again, America is represented!
Fiddle Head Market which is a little co-op of different food stands including a wine and cheese shop, a butcher and a decent fish monger. I grabbed a bunch of stuff for lunch including some nice smoked salmon, mission figs, french cheese, grapes, duck trufee, and some baguettes. It was a lunch that would make and ADHD chef proud as their was no rhyme or reason to the various textures and flavors. It was all over the place, but it was delicious and fun. We sat in our kitchen listening to music and enjoyed the different tastes and flavors of our little picnic. I enjoyed it so much that I actually took a picture of it, (I take pictures of everything, don't I? )
Show I attended Friday night. The show took place at the beautifully designed but terribly named "Wang Center" (there's a ton of jokes I could stick in here, but it's just too easy and I'm sure you can think of your own.) Anyway, I had the good fortune of being relatively close to the stage and I was horrified to see the aged hippies trying to capture a small piece of their days of peace and love all the while being almost violently corralled back to their seats by the Nazi like security down front. They repeatedly wabbled out of their seats and wondered toward the stage only to be screamed at by the part time security team. Quite honestly the groovy and mellow character of these characters seems to have disappeared with age, this represented by the guy two seats over from me who was asked to sit down by the tie died gent just behind him. While "Bobby Mumbles" was singing about "the Answer Blowing in the Wind", this guy was blowing on the middle finger he was pointing at his neighbor. 
