On the morning of the 24th, we all descended on the kitchen and made mincemeat. This is a family tradition that's been around since before I was born. Other people make pickles or salsa. Rob's family always made applesauce. Mine makes mincemeat. Yup, it's true. And we make true mincemeat, which contains meat and doesn't have any brandy. Here Grandpa and Sebi have got the unenviable job of grinding the suet. And if you don't know what suet is, I won't ruin your next meal by telling you.
Pretty much a hive of industry.
John and will had to peel all of the apples. Back when I was a kid we would often buy the apples in Watsonville while we were down at the beach during General Conference weekend. What?! You didn't go to the beach for General Conference? Well that explains why you don't make mincemeat. If you did, then you would.
Maddie got the fragrant job of stirring in all of the spices and raisins.
And Joss and I juiced and zested all of the lemons and oranges. He is an excellent juicer.
This is the only picture I got of my mom, she was zooming around so fast. In all the other pictures she was simply a blonde blur. After we'd assembled our parts and stuck them all into the great pot, Rob and I rounded up the kids and drove them up to the beach behind the racetrack. And we left Grandma and Kiecoo to do the careful and hot work of canning.
The kids needed to be loud and get wet and searching for sea glass manages all of those things and more.
I agree with my friend Janet -- all of those picturesque beaches named Sea Glass Beach never have any sea glass. What is required for sea glass are broken bottles and rocks. The beach behind Golden Gate Fields has plenty of both!
Joss managed better than most kids to get himself sopping wet. But if you can go to the beach on Christmas Eve day? Knock yourself out. We may have even gotten a little bit sunburned!
Some of our sea glass haul. Once we'd gotten all the squirrelies out, we were ready to drive back home via Berkeley and see our old haunts.