Well, it’s the time of year for my favorite holiday. For those of you that don’t worship at the altar of Ferrero, February 5th is World Nutella Day. I may never get over the fact that there is a day for the entire world to celebrate what is essentially a spread. But it brings so much joy to so many, I think it’s earned the honor. I know my life is better now that I have discovered Nutella. I’m guessing yours is too.
Growing up my favorite breakfast was Quaker Oats’ maple and brown sugar oatmeal. While I would tire of this cereal or that, I never got bored with maple and brown sugar oatmeal. To this day, it is still my favorite way to eat oatmeal though I usually go with nuts and raisins instead. The days of sugary breakfasts are gone with my youth.
There was a bust of Elvis in our basement. It was there for as long as I can remember and I honestly had no idea why. It was about 8 inches high and was painted gold. I mean what other color could “The King” be painted. Pink? I don’t think so. Apparently it was a reject from my grandfather’s craft store and we gave it a home. So everyday for years, whenever we’d go downstairs to watch TV, Elvis would flash his signature sneer at us from the bookshelf.
Holiday time is all about family. For some this is very enjoyable, for others it is a time filled with stress. Over the past few years, I have realized how rare it is to be in the first category and how truly lucky I am. No, I am not bragging just merely appreciating my good fortune.
I only remember two things from Jewish holiday dinners at my grandparent’s house. After all it was about 35 years ago since I was last there and let’s face it, we don’t remember all that much from when we were small. The memories are vivid, yes, but not plentiful. So all that stands out is every holiday my grandfather saying “Try a little wine.” And my grandmother yelling at him, “Harry, she doesn’t want any wine.”
