CONDUCTING CHRISTMAS

"Gifts of time and love are surely the basic ingredients of a truly merry Christmas."-Peg Bracken

They always came at Christmas. Mr. and Mrs. Totting. Always dressed to the nines. Always on time.He wore a cream brown suit with a thin tie. She was coifed and perfumed.A mink stole around her silk suit. They were old chums of my parents. They used to go dancing together for years.And now, they came to our house. For years, after my father was no more.

They came for the old days. For the friendship. For the music on the stereo.  For the sherry and the Vinegar tarts.

                                                     
They looked like the mincemeat tarts. But they weren't. My mother made sure the fire was roaring. I don't know how she did it. She always put on a spread for Mr. and Mrs. Totting.

The ever present smoked oysters, cream crackers ( all company got those), Hickory farms cheeses, cut into cubes, radishes in the shape of flowers, strawberries dipped in chocolate, sandwiches  ( three kinds), shortbread dipped in chocolate, fruitcake buttered like bread, and tarts.  Vinegar tarts.

Tea. Sherry. More tea. and Christmas records on the old stereo. The one my dad bought  a few years before he died. He and Mr. Totting used to play records and conduct invisible orchestras. It was their passion. Their past time. They would laugh and take turns.

It was a quiet time. My mother, nervous about the evening,  making sure the fire roasted everyone alive. Mr. and Mrs. Totting happily  munching , slurping, drinking and laughing away the night.

But it was  a tad empty. My father was no longer there. But yet, he was still there. You could feel him there.

 My mother served the Vinegar Tarts scalding hot.  Their innards burst out of the pasty like molten lava. Squirted all over Mrs. Totting's nice suit jacket. 

Christmas VINEGAR TARTS ( 1940’s)

(Basically a gooey type of butter tart, but without raisins. My grandmother and mother made these all the time ….)

 ¾ cup brown sugar

1 large tablespoon of butter

2 tablespoon of  red wine vinegar, or balsamic, or white vinegar

½ cup corn syrup

2 eggs

 Beat all together, pour into  tart shells and bake at 350 till filling is set, about 18 minutes.  ( Makes about 14 tarts) Don't serve them scalding hot.

 

While my mother hurried to find a cloth to clean the jacket I was told to play. Dutifully I hauled out my violin and started sawing away on any Christmas carol I knew.  At least four times thru. I was methodical.I saw Mr. and Mrs. Totting wince. They always winced when I began playing. But held their smiles. I thought that meant they were loving it. So I scraped away at some more  carols till I was told to stop.

Every year they came I had to play. Every year they smiled and nodded. They must have loved music,  cause my mother had me play piano next. They didn't wince as much then.

One year,  on the same day, same time, we expected them again. My mother put out the spread and set the fire, and turned on the stereo to play Harry Belafonte. 

But the evening dragged on and they never came.

They had forgotten. They came  a few days later. Then that spring they moved away. We never saw them again. Never again would I serenade them with four choruses of each carol I knew. 

The last time they were here, Mr. Totting put on a record. and he conducted away. Like he would have when he and my father would do.  I watched Mr. Totting smile. The years seemed to melt away as he remembered  the Christmas evenings  when there was music and laughter  and those vinegar tarts.....

"The light of the Christmas star to you.The warmth of hearth and home to you..." -Sherryl Woods

Photographs 2020