A Very Merry Christmas

Waiting for the turkey to roast has never been so much fun!

-  Margaret Deefholts

Several years ago, just a week before Christmas, my sister Phyllis acquired a new oven. Her 20-year old cooker had begun to wheeze ominously every time she swivelled the control knobs, so an upgrade was in order. The new stove was state-of-the-art. It had a built-in microwave oven, a convection oven and an electronic pad with sensors that buzzed discreetly, lights that blinked, and pale green displays that told you everything short of the next day’s weather forecast.

Christmas Day in our family followed a pattern. After morning church service, my sister and her husband, Derek, joined my parents, my husband, our two kids and me for a festive brunch at our house.

After the ritual of unwrapping the gifts stacked under our Christmas tree, Phyllis and Derek would usually scurry off home to get the turkey into the oven, so that it cooked in time for our Christmas dinner get-together at their home.

We had friends from Britain spending Christmas with us that year and after brunch, we watched the Queen’s Christmas message on TV and then lounged around, chatting. My sister seemed in no rush to get home.

“What about the turkey?” I asked her.