And Zen Nothing

Just a few more days to go. But wait! Have we written all the cards, thought of all our friends, wished everybody a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, have we bought all the presents, ingredients, decorations, and, most importantly, baked all the cookies? I have managed one load, the cookbook said “moderately difficult, sophisticated”, and of course I thought I can do it. Suffice to say that it involved a cookie dough consisting, above all, of butter, a caramel cream not too soft and not too hard, and an intricately melted chocolate topping. The day was writ off, and the result a mere twenty crumbly shortbreads filled with salted caramel and dipped halfway into dark chocolate. They were good, though. Every single one of them.

My professor for French Literature used to finish his classes before the Christmas break by saying: “Bon. Au revoir messieursdames, je vous souhaite Noël.” It took the edge off things. It’s fucking good to take the edge off things. Like today’s extended lunch with Anne and Georg. It’s these little things. And to round it off, I can safely say that we’ve already gotten the most unexcited present this year, and it wasn’t intended to be a Christmas gift. My best friend sent it to us in a huge but surprisingly light parcel last week, just so, for friendship’s and hope’s sake. An incredibly thin porcelain tealight from Japan, pure white on the outside and stark pink inside. Put a candle in it, place it on the windowsill against the gray sky. Look at it. Bliss.

I dare you, Noël.