Boston Bound

During Christmas-time 2008, the extended "H" family gathered in New England. BlogMama, Hubster and TeenE boarded a plane at Heathrow (see previous entry). Son revved up the 1998 Chevy Venture minivan formerly owned by his mother, and sped northward from the Carolinas. After a brief stop in Belmont at the home of Dr. Erica, we all rendezvoused in Manchester, NH, at the home of my in-laws Nana and Granddad, in Hubster’s childhood home.

We were preceded by a gigantic ice storm, the likes of which New Hampshire had never seen before. Nana and Granddad themselves had had to evacuate to a hotel as they had neither heat nor hot water in the sub-freezing weather. I have subsequently heard reports that other people were without power for up to eleven days. Crews worked around the clock to restore power throughout the region. By the time we arrived, power had been restored and N and G were back in residence.

We awoke in the am to find that Santa had left a few things under the tree. He imported a few things from London, in the form of a magenta lambswool scarf-boa (me), a magenta cashmere vest (me), Roman roof tiles (Hubster, Son and Granddad), a hand-knit red beaded shawl (Nana), London, The Biography (Granddad) and a Beatles wallet (son). TeenE also received her requested Ugg-type boots and Son his requested electronic pre-amp for his bass guitar (cuts down on feedback, I’m told).

The plan for Christmas luncheon was for Hubster’s sister and her husband, aka NH-Sis and NH-Bro-i-L t, along with their girls cuzzins Nejjy and Sejjy, to host the clan at their spacious residence in nearby Bedford, NH. Other Brother UncaTom and his wife AuntTom were also to attend, along with NH-BroiL’s mother, bringing the total to thirteen. Before noon we piled into two vehicles and set out for Bedford, but not before Nana stayed behind with the dryer while it finished Son’s load of laundry. (See posting from Sept. to determine why she will not leave the house with dryer running).

As we entered the family room at the NH-Sis and NH-Broil’s lovely colonial home, we felt the warmth of a fire in the fireplace. As we removed our boots, we glanced into the open door of the attached garage, and were surprised to see two banquet tables all laid out with Christmas place-settings and wineglasses. The crowd of thirteen had been deemed too large to fit in the dining room, and with the youngest among us now 14, a “kid’s table” in the adjacent living room was deemed unseemly.
Please bear in mind that this is the cleanest garage you will ever see. Not a speck of dust or dirt was evident. It was as if NH-BroiL had sterilized it somehow. Beige area rugs covered the floor, the walls were a pristine white, not a shred of anything cluttered the walls. The only other furnishings were a folding table serving as a wine bar, and a seating area for two over in one corner. Two space heaters with fans kept us at room, or should I say, garage temperature.
After enjoying festive drinks and hors d-oevres in the living room, we lined up in the kitchen to fill our plates with roast crown of pork, potatoes, gravy, homemade applesauce, green beans, etc., and then repaired to the garage, er, banquet hall, to enjoy the feast. A dessert of pecan pie or pumpkin chiffon pie (or a sliver of each) topped off the meal. It almost took a forklift to get everyone back into the main house afterwards.

I was joined at the sink by NH-BroiL’s mother, who wiped as I washed. We put away the leftovers, loaded the dishwasher, and washed everything that didn’t fit . After that, still jet-lagged, we were ready to go back to our various beds/sofas at Nana and Granddad’s.

I hope that Christmas in the Garage continues as an “H” family tradition. It certainly made this year memorable!
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