Eggnog, Sangria, and Smiles

by cindy

Have I time for one last post for this year? Let’s try…

We recently hosted a gathering of friends which, if I say so myself, was quite a lot of fun. Well, I had fun anyway, as I listened to the laughter and chatter of adults while children of various ages ran rampant throughout the house, laughing with equal amounts of glee.

As I cleaned things up the next day, I took a photo of this marvelous snowball punch bowl.

Snowball Punch Bowl

It belonged to my mother and when my siblings and I moved my parents to a retirement home, the punch bowl did not follow. I remember holding my breath as I asked my sisters if either of them wanted it. Well, I think I remember asking. Maybe I thought about asking and just decided not to risk either of them wanting it because I REALLY WANTED THIS THING. And, what do you know? Here it is…in my house!

For this particular occasion, it held a slightly wicked apple cider sangria, the kind that kinda sneaks up on you. Yum. There was precious little of it left by the end of our party.

For me, however, the memories go way, way back…which, as you may have noticed, my memories tend to go. My mother used to make her own eggnog (back in the day before you could buy it in the supermarket. Well, back before there WERE supermarkets…) and immediately after sprinkling the top with nutmeg, she would let us kids have sips from those lovely little snowball mugs. It was a treat! It was a treat particularly because after our sips, she added some of those special ingredients which make eggnog, well, eggnog. And sips for the kids were off-limits after that.

My grandmother, the original (for our family) Mom-mom, was the daughter of a southern Methodist preacher and a complete teetotaler. She abhorred any kind of alcohol. Whenever she caught my father drinking a beer, the conversation would go something like this:

“Burl! How can you drink that stuff?”

“Mom, I drink it because I like it!”

“How can you like it? It tastes like horse piss!”

“Mom! How do you know that? Have you ever tasted horse piss?”

And the argument would go downhill after that.

Regardless of her opinion of beer, she loved my mother’s eggnog. I mean, she really loved that stuff. She seemed to have no idea what made Mom’s eggnog so special. And she drank lots of it at Christmastime, enough to make her nod off in the easy chair for hours at a time.

Sunday Afternoons

Be it eggnog or apple cider sangria, this punch bowl never fails to bring a smile to my face. Could be the memories. Could be the drink. Could be both.

Hope your holidays were wonderful.

Happy New Year, one and all.

As always, thank you for reading and sticking around.