My mother was a genius.<\/p>\n
When I was eighteen, I came dragging home with a boyfriend that my mother regarded as a bit of a pill. \u00a0That was an understatement, and she was right, of course, although it took me eighteen years to admit it and move on. \u00a0When that happened, by the way, she had the good grace not to say that she told me so.<\/p>\n
Two years into the process, when it came time for Christmas, I discovered that my then boyfriend\/future husband\/and eventually future ex-husband had to be home with his mother for Christmas every year, no exceptions. \u00a0And, if I was going to be a part of his life, that meant I needed to be with HIS mother, every Christmas, no exceptions. \u00a0Which meant that, for the foreseeable future, I wouldn’t ever be celebrating Christmas with MY mother.<\/p>\n
Evie wasn’t someone who took that kind of thing lying down. \u00a0She went searching in her bag of tricks and pulled out an “old Scandinavian custom” which she called Liljulaften. \u00a0(The spelling I use here is entirely arbitrary and most likely incorrect, but this is my story, and I’m sticking to it.) \u00a0However you spell the word, what it means is Little Christmas Eve, and it happens the Sunday before Christmas.<\/p>\n
It doesn’t matter if the Liljulaften tradition was real to begin with or if my mother simply invented it on the spot, but it’s certainly real now, because we’ve been celebrating it for nearly fifty years now.<\/p>\n
Here’s how it works. \u00a0The Sunday before Christmas everyone comes here. \u00a0People can be anywhere they want to be on Christmas Day or Christmas Eve, but they need to show up at the party here that Sunday. \u00a0We have a feast–usually ham and whatever goodies come to mind. \u00a0Lefse is an integral part of the menu. \u00a0We used to get it from a bakery in Stanwood. \u00a0After they closed, I got it from Granrud’s Lefse factory in Montana. \u00a0This year, we’re having the best lefse EVER made and delivered fresh this morning by a fan from Lake Stevens!!! \u00a0Thank you, Loren!!!!<\/p>\n
After dinner, everyone opens one present. \u00a0Exceptions are made for people who will be elsewhere for Christmas Day itself. \u00a0They get to open more than one. \u00a0And then people go on to wherever they need to be and from my point of view, I’m home free.<\/p>\n
Over the years, with kids, grandkids, in-laws, ex-in-laws, and outlaws, Liljulaften has become a way to cut down the pressure. \u00a0Liljulaften feels like Christmas without actually BEING Christmas. \u00a0If you happen to have relatives, like my original mother-in-law who has to run the show for Christmas Day, then Liljulaften gives everybody some wiggle room and reduces the competition between feuding “but-it’s-my-turn” grandparents. \u00a0(By the way, there’s no rule that says Liljulaften HAS to be on Sunday. \u00a0I’m sure any day in December would be just fine.<\/p>\n
So if you want to exercise your inner-Scandinavian persona for one day a year, choose a day that works for you and go for it. \u00a0You aren’t even required to serve lefse. \u00a0(By the way, if you’re trying to figure out what lefse is, think flour tortilla made with mashed potatoes as the basis for the dough.)<\/p>\n
And if you decide to do this, here’s some more good news. \u00a0If you run out of something you need for your Liljulaften dinner, the stores will be OPEN!! \u00a0It isn’t an official holiday for anyone else.<\/p>\n
Have fun.<\/p>\n
Merry Christmas, and thank you Evie. \u00a0Every year during Liljulaften, we raise a toast in my mother’s honor. \u00a0After all, she really is the author of the feast.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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