Thursday, December 26, 2013

A Christmas Miracle

Even though we aren't celebrating our family Christmas until the weekend, when it's the House on the Corner's turn to have the newlyweds under its roof, just seeing Dec. 25 on the calendar is a good excuse to bring out heavy artillery, calorie-wise. That's why I got up while the children were sleeping (all snug in their beds, so to speak) and made Caramel Apple Cinnamon Rolls, from scratch, for our Christmas breakfast.

I'm a pretty good baker, if I say so myself, and they turned out spectacular. Caramel-y, cinnamon-y, ooey-gooey deliciousness on a plate with a cup of cranberry wassail to wash them down.

As I took the rolls out of the oven, though, I noticed the top element seemed to be drooping--a screw had un-screwed itself and needed to be replaced. In my caramel-induced euphoria, however, I forgot this until the afternoon as I was setting the dinner rolls to proof.

Not a problem--Boy#2 is just two years from a doctorate in electrical engineering at one of the nation's most prestigious universities. This means he can fix a stove, right? Well, no. It means he can tell me exactly how the transformers and switches work on the stove, but for actual repairs it's best to call the Sears guy. That was the conclusion I reached immediately after I saw flames shooting from the control panel. (Two says they were only electrical sparks--potato, potahto.)

And that's when the Christmas miracle came in. In the past, I have been known to be just a touch...brittle? shall we say? when it comes to going with the flow. I have my plan mapped out in my head, and the plan does not vary. If circumstances such as a non-functioning oven cause the plan to need amending, those sparks coming out of the control panel pale in comparison to the mighty fireworks shooting out of the top of my head.

But yesterday, when I knew I had rolls AND a ham AND a corn casserole on the menu, I was the kitchen equivalent of Mary Lou Retton in my flexibility.

"Not a problem," I told Boy#2, Husband, and Boy#3, who by now were clustered around the (unplugged) stove looking worried. "Let's wait until tomorrow and call someone to fix it."

I know! Who was that woman, who was not wringing her hands and weeping? Instead, I grabbed the roaster oven and set the ham to glazing, then made the first of several dozen trips up and down the basement steps to where our canning stove had sat unused for a couple of years. Only 20 minutes after its original scheduled time, with just one pan of rolls inedible because I hadn't figured on the substitute oven's warm enthusiasm for its task, Christmas dinner was on the table.

Christmas miracles come in all shapes and sizes. I do believe my unaccustomed moment of good attitude in the face of unexpected circumstances may have been one of them.

Merry Christmas, to you and yours!

1 comment:

  1. Greetings! I have a question about your blog! I'm Heather and if you could email me at Lifesabanquet1(at)gmail(dot)com that would be great!