It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas- there are toys all over the floor. But the prettiest sight I’ll see, is the cake that I will eat, when we close the baby’s door.
Once upon a time Christmas preparation was all about civility. There were carefully curated wrapping schemes (last year I was even addled enough to design our cake, to match our ribbons).
There were large pine trees erected while we sipped on Pedro Ximenez and hours lost pondering the merits of differing glazes for hams. There was such a glut of parties that by the time December 24 lurched around the very sound of champagne popping would cause my …
