Christmas this year was a little different. For the first time, I didn’t go home. Instead, I flew up to Thunder Bay and spent a cold and snowy Christmas with Adam and his family. I missed home – the family and friends, Pearl and the Peking duck – but it was a great Christmas, nonetheless. Much like Christmas in BC, Christmas in Northern Ontario saw a sinful amount of food: all the perogies, cabbage rolls, turkey and candied yams you could ever imagine, with some wings, fries, duck confit and pad gra prow thrown into the mix. We ate scratch-baked cinnamon buns and sweet and sticky bacon-wrapped water chestnuts, and watched all the Christmas movies.
A beautifully decorated tree was a welcome change – at home, we haven’t had a tree in years because we discovered that French bulldogs (or at least, ours) enjoy eating the tree, its ornaments and the presents underneath.
And in true Christmas-miracle fashion, I not only put on an elf sweater and Santa hat, but ventured out in public wearing the complete outfit.