85°F
weather icon Clear

‘Twas the baking before Christmas

Last year, many readers commented how much they enjoyed my column about holiday baking and requested that I make this an annual tradition. With apologies to Clement Clarke Moore, here it is:

’Twas the week before Christmas, when all through the house,

Not a surface was clean, not even my blouse.

The counters were floured in the kitchen with care

In hopes that the goodies would soon be baking there.

The ingredients were gathered, all the recipes read,

While visions of sugar cookies danced in my head.

And me in my apron, my hubby taking a nap,

As I settled in for a long-cooking snap.

When out in the pantry there rang such a clatter,

I sprang from my perch to see what was the matter.

Away to the doorway I flew like a flash,

Hoping to find the source of my crash.

From its home on the shelf to the floor way below

With a spiraling pirouette, it created quite a show.

When what to my wondering eyes did appear,

But a broken bowl and scattered pieces, oh dear!

With care and caution I cleaned it up quick,

To ensure none of my fingers got even a nick.

The time was approaching for my baking fame,

That I gathered my spices and called them by name.

Now vanilla, now ginger, now anise and cinnamon,

On cloves, on nutmeg, on ginger and cardamon.

Into my mixer, no measurement too small,

Blend your way into batter, incorporating all.

Cut into shapes, in my oven I spy,

Holiday goodies everyone will want to try.

So around the house went treats red and blue,

With baskets of candies and some yummy fudge, too.

And then, after eating some, I heard a big oof,

The groaning and moaning, as if, a goof.

As I turned my head and started looking around,

Down the sofa were folks making quite a loud sound.

They were dressed in their finest, from their head to their foot,

But had stuffed themselves silly, no more room left to put.

Instead they gathered packages quite neatly into a stack,

And swore in a moment they soon would be back.

They celebrated, and cheered making all bright and merry.

It was time to go now, there was no time to tarry.

But I heard them exclaim, as they drove out of sight,

Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Hali Bernstein Saylor is editor of the Boulder City Review. She can be reached at hsaylor@bouldercityreview.com or at 702-586-9523. Follow @HalisComment on Twitter.

Don't miss the big stories. Like us on Facebook.
THE LATEST
No parade passes us by

The start of a new year is always a big deal for me. But it’s not the fireworks or parties that I look forward to as one year melds into another.

Change marks past year

As I look back at the past 361 days, there is one thing throughout 2017 that has been constant: change.

Feminism dominates 2017

Earlier this week, Merriam-Webster, a leading authority on language, declared “feminism” as 2017’s word of the year.

Santa’s arrival heralds magical time

I have come to the conclusion that there truly is something magical about Santa’s red suit. It can turn back time.

Sample sights, sounds, tastes of holidays

Now that you have enjoyed your Thanksgiving dinner, shopped all the Black Friday, Small Business Saturday and Cyber Monday sales, and polished off the leftovers, it’s time to let the holiday celebration begin in earnest.

Reasons to be thankful plentiful

Since our paper comes out each Thursday and Thanksgiving falls on the fourth Thursday of the month, it seems natural to take this opportunity to give thanks for all the blessings that have come my way — and the way of this staff — over the past 365 days.

Time too precious to squander

It’s been said that time and tide wait for no man.

Time brings steps in right direction

It’s been said that time flies when you’re having fun. I’ve also heard that time passes much more quickly the older you get.

Compromise, like marble cake, can make life better

Compromise. Simply put, compromise is the art of coming to an agreement or settlement in a dispute with each side making concessions.