(THE MONKEY getting ready to be wrapped up!)

my paternal grandmother was fierce. she lived the way she wanted and you pretty much just went along. she liked things a certain way and if something wasn’t to her choosing she would wave her hand, say, “oh FISH!” and carry on as she deemed appropriate. you didn’t really want to get in her way.

(even at 15 my grandmother seemed to know exactly what she wanted)

she also loved BIG… she absolutely adored my father and of course, me too. she expressed her love with cooking (she made the BEST desserts, especially pies) and personalized gifts. she liked to sew us matching dresses to wear when she had her bridge club over. as a little girl, i would circle the table offering peanuts or chocolates from little crystal bowls as she played cards with her girlfriends. 

(here is my grandma serving us christmas dinner… i think my mouth is open in anticipation of the mashed potatoes)

(here she is feeding me lunch before her bridge club comes over - i am sure i was changed into a matching dress after … she always gave me an extra big mat to protect the table)

while many things in her home were really beautiful (the glassware, the cutlery, some figurines) she was also decidedly campy. her famous turkey plates were brought out for thanksgiving, she wore oversized costume brooches with matching clip-on earrings, she went weekly to the beauty shop to have her hair styled in a big, poofy bouffant, she had enormous ruffled table lamps that reminded me of spanish dancers and large plastic fruit and flower displays were strategically placed in the living room.

(my grandma’s famous turkey plates)

(LOOK at that table lamp AND the plastic flower display… AMAZING!)

one christmas, when i was ten or eleven, she sent us a box of presents that included a statue for my dad. we were so grateful she wasn’t there with us because it was so silly and outrageous looking that we all burst into peals of laughter… it was a confused looking, golfing monkey scratching his head. my father was a HUGE golfer so there WAS a connection, but we couldn’t figure out if it was a joke or a serious gift and none of us ever dared ask her.

(the monkey from the front)

(the monkey from the back)

instead, each subsequent christmas, we found ways to rewrap the monkey and regift it to my dad. at some point, the monkey was given to whoever was not well behaved during the year - like coal. you would think that the big, heavy, rectangular box was a boom box or an awesome pair of boots and then it would be the monkey. you might have even saved it to open last because you thought it was going to be your best present. it was super disappointing to get the monkey. 

one year my brother and i snuck up into the attic in early december to steal away the monkey so we could avert this disappointment and give it to my mom. this present did NOT go down well as she felt that since she did all the cooking and holiday preparations and general momming all year round she should be immune from the monkey - she was a bit frosty at christmas dinner. (now that i am a mother who does all of that work i understand!) over time, the monkey became more of a badge of honor and was presented to new people in the family. the BEST was when we gave it to my brother-in-law, raj. he is super polite and has impeccable taste (his red holiday pants are my favorite!) the face he made when he opened it was epic (he IS a golfer too) and i am not sure he ever fully understood the honor of receiving the monkey.

now the monkey is quite chipped and tatty looking which makes him even more ridiculous. he has been a big part of our family christmas for more than forty years - i will keep you posted on who gets him this year! HAPPY, HAPPY HOLIDAYS! x0x0x

to read more about our christmas traditions click here or here or here