Well, the first day of Christmas is over. Four dozen pierogi were made and about half as many eaten, along with a whole spread of other foods that comprise a Christmas lunch. The entire ordeal reminded me of a bug in the video I recently filmed. I find the clip somewhat satisfying after a day of overeating.
In the video, the bug squeezes through a tunnel in a composting orange peel, the fruit of which was eaten a couple weeks prior. That particular orange, for the record, turned out to be quite possibly one of the best oranges I’ve ever eaten. If I had linked its demise with the feast of Saint Nicholas (December 6th), it also would’ve reminded me of waking up to childhood stockings full of presents and Christmas oranges.
Simple things, like oranges and pierogi, remind me of where I come from. It’s easy to forget when one’s constantly moving and learning, and it seems to be the part of us most often attacked and criticized by other people under the guise of learned debate.
Sometimes debate helps. Sauerkraut starts out as a somewhat unsavory filling before it’s boiled, fried, wrapped in dough, boiled and fried again. Sometimes, though, critique is just a bah humbug looking for an audience.
For me, I shall always try to remember the magic in the orange peel, of twinkling Christmas lights and stuffed stockings on December the 6th… memories of a man who once believed three women were more than society would otherwise have them be.
It’s how I grew up. It’s where I come from. And, if sufficiently nurtured, it could perhaps turn into something immensely useful, like compost or sauerkraut filling.