What Martha Stewart and Good Catholics Have in Common

So much has been said about Martha Stewart both positive and negative the mere mention of her name is enough to “trigger” many people.  I have not met her personally, but I know several people who have and they tell me she is a hard task master.  That she strives for perfection in all that she does is no exaggeration. 

If you’ve ever tried one of her recipes, you know she doesn’t take the shortcut, nor will you ever get away with using only one bowl and a couple of spoons.  If Martha has anything to do with something, you know from the start it will very likely, though not always, be COMPLICATED.  Not that "complicated" is necessarily to be to be avoided.  Often the results are well worth the effort. 

When Santa Came Knocking at My Door

          We lived along the train line to Manhattan in Fairfield, Connecticut from 1981-1990.  Spencer caught the 6:52 each weekday morning, and the 5:02 out of Grand Central Station each evening.  He rose at 5:30 to dress,  left home at 6:15 to drive to the station, park, and buy a paper before boarding, and if the trains were on time, he was back in the driveway at about 6:30 that evening.  A long day for anyone in a suit and tie and one that was filled with the burden of performing well in the office and the added stress of public transportation schedules and serious weather conditions at least half the year.  When you live like that, you want home life to be as peace filled as possible. 

          We naturally looked forward to the holidays even knowing they could get complicated.  One year we invited my parents to come for Christmas.  They were excited to see the children and to see New England decorated in the style of Norman Rockwell/Christmas card fame.  It truly is beautiful. 

There's no place like home

for the holidays

          Mother came prepared to help in the kitchen, of course, but besides the main Christmas dinner there were regular meals to be prepared, gifts still to be wrapped, last minute things to purchase, and other company--old friends we'd known in Texas, who had transferred north shortly before we did.  We thought my parents would enjoy seeing them again and meeting their growing family, three boys, ages one, three, and five,  so we invited them over to share a little supper and some "holiday cheer" a couple of days before Christmas.  

          Everything seemed to go wrong that day.