Christmas Chez Garter was jolly, heralded by rumpusing canines, much cookie baking (I went with these recipes in the end), and cute cousins in StarWars hats:

Yes, even too-small StarWars Hat the First made an appearance on a smaller head! Pardon the bleached appearance of this picture – something unfortunate happened to the reds in the transfer to the web. Rest assured that my cousins are healthy and beautiful boys, and are not kept in a damp cave pining for sunlight.

Presents were exchanged. (Much coveted Blue Faced Leicester wool was received. I shall endeavor to show you in the next few days, as I don’t think I can resist knitting a swatch right away.) In the midst of the unwrappings, I glanced out the window and — mirabile dictu! — it was snowing. Great fleecy flakes were fairly cascading out of the heavens. I had to stare in stupid wonder for a minute to be sure I wasn’t imagining them before I shot out of my chair shrieking like any six-year-old. It didn’t stick, but it felt like a benediction.

And the handknits were a hit. But does anyone else suffer acute camnesia when racing to finish holiday knits? I seem to have a terminal case. Marika’s Christmas in Tallinn stocking came out beautifully, but I did not take a picture. Asa loved his Elizabeth Zimmermann garter-stitch slippers from Knitting Without Tears (knit in chunky-weight wool on 5.0mm needles for a kid’s size 7 – they’d be a perfect accessory to go with a Tomten or Baby Surprise Jacket, by the way), exclaiming happily, “These are my ice skates!” and sliding all over the hardwood floors. But they were captured only by chance, and quite unrecognizably, in the corner of the picture above. I made another bias garter hat for my neighbor, this time in ShibuiKnits Merino Kid in Rapids and Colinette Parisienne in Castagna, but I did not photograph it before I gave it to her.

Since I have no pictures, I offer instead my Christmas dinner recipe for vegetarian Yorkshire pudding. We went to Britain when I was thirteen to visit the great-aunts and see the sights. Dining mostly in pubs, my brother and I subsisted largely on pasties and Yorkshire pudding. (Also there was this drink I loved. I believe it was made of lemon and barley water. One day I’ll find it again.) Having been vegetarian these twelve years past, I’ve never tried to cook any of it. I recently decided that a mushroom reduction could stand in pretty well for the roast beef drippings, so on the 25th I followed this recipe for the pudding (I couldn’t resist a name like Ishbel), using butter for the fat, and Marika and I improvised the following:

In plenty of butter, sautee 1 1/2 lbs. chopped mushrooms, mixed portobello and button. Add a splash of red wine as the mushrooms begin to cook down. Throw in some finely chopped herbs – we used fresh thyme and rosemary. Stir a little cornstarch into half a cup of hot water or broth to dissolve, then add another half cup of broth or milk. Pour the lot in with the cooking mushrooms to thicken up the juices. Cook until you like the consistency. If you haven’t used a commercial vegetable or mushroom broth, you’ll probably want to add a little salt. Spoon over squares of the pudding and eat it hot.

You could make the whole thing vegan by using oil or vegetable shortening in the pudding, and then oil in the mushrooms. It would be just as tasty.

I’m up at my old island home now, editing reports for school and writing thank-you notes and a New Year’s letter and knitting and dog-wrangling. I’ve finally picked up the cashmere stole again – only five months until the wedding! – and worked most of a chart repetition last night while watching Ratatouille and a couple of West Wing episodes from Season 2. And there’s another Drifting Pleats scarf on the needles, commissioned by a friend for his lady love. Pictures soon, I promise!