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I greatly admire all organized Christmas participants. They mail their cards on time, bake their cookies, make their candy, buy their gifts, mail packages early, wrap presents, decorate the house, and light the tree. My sister falls into this category of Christmas success and my father praises her peanut brittle.

I do not fall into this category. I do what must be done immediately before it must be done staying up late to accomplish the task. My mom called me at 9pm last night and discovered me baking cookies for the church Christmas Eve cookie exchange. The exchange was originally planned for Saturday, but was snowed out. I had baked peanut butter hershey kiss cookies originally, but they did not survive until Christmas Eve.

I have a general idea as to what I need to do and will suddenly focus on a task at random and it will become my priority for the moment. I do not give Dale much warning and will announce, “I think we should get the tree today and you can put lights on it tomorrow…then you and Gabe can hang the lights on the house.” Other times, I will get stuck on what gift to give to one of the children and illicit Dale’s help. These are moments Dale tries to avoid, but occasionally he cannot escape the endless search for another option which ends in no right answer.

I cannot do my shopping all at once. I have a friend who does all her Christmas shopping on one day. She shops from 8am to 10pm. I could never shop that long. Abby and my mom could, but not me. I usually purchase gifts in the order of when they have to be given: family gifts to be mailed, friends, children, and finally Dale. (Dale is last place, but don’t tell him)

On Tuesday, I had my final list and headed to the shops. The large amount of snow remaining has made parking lots random spot chaos. At the MCX (military department store), they had cleared the parking lot willy nilly. Some aisles could be entered and exited only one way, some aisles  and spaces were filled with snow, and everyone and their brother was driving about. It was madness.

I had a list and it did not include entering the MCX, (I was supposed to be going to the commissary next to it.) but I had a sudden compulsion to join the large crowd headed to the MCX and was funneled in by them. I wandered about consumed by the Holly Jolly.

Eventually, I escaped the MCX with “great gifts I didn’t know I needed”, bought the food I actually needed, and dropped everything at home. I now had three more stores to go. At the first store, I did well sticking to the list. On my way to the second store, Dale called and said, “Zeke needs water proof mittens.” “OK,” I thought, “I’ll just run into this other store not on my list.” From past experience, I should have realized I was at the brink.

There is always an item that is unattainable. Each year it changes and when I begin to look for it, I cannot stop trying to find it. I waste more time looking for it than it is worth. I will search and search throughout a store, looking everywhere and will slowly enter the “Holly Jolly Haze.” All focused thoughts disappear, nothing on the list can be found, and I wander at random in a slow distracted ineffective manner.

It is near impossible to escape the Holly Jolly Haze.  Shopping becomes painful and if someone asks if they can help me find something, I can no longer give them a cohesive answer. Truly, it is best to go home, sleep, and try again another day, but even this simple decision escapes me.

Eventually, I stumbled home fortified by a hot cocoa topped with whipped cream and chocolate shavings. It didn’t snap me out of the Holly Jolly Haze, but it sure tasted good.

My Mom told me she was thinking of calling me at midnight before Thanksgiving since she suspected that I was up “clanking around the kitchen.” She didn’t call in case, for once, I had gotten my preparations done ahead of schedule. I had such good intentions as always, yet there I was at midnight, pouring fudge onto two buttered plates.

When Dale was growing up, the favorite holiday dessert was peanut butter fudge. Cakes, pies, cookies, and fruit salad were ok, but the holiday wasn’t complete without peanut butter fudge. He asked me to make it when we first married and I vividly recall attempting to make a batch in Germany that turned out like cement and was completely inedible.

I tried again and again without success until one day in Colorado when Dale’s Mama came to visit. I made her show me. Now Dale’s Mama did not measure anything. She would pour the approximate amount in and I would take it out and measure it. She then cooked it to “just so” and I had to figure out what “just so” meant.

After the fudge was cooked she would pour it onto two buttered plates. She did this for two reasons: 1. Her 9×13 pans were either being used for something else, or were lost or damaged. 2. One plate was saved for Dale’s Daddy so the kids wouldn’t eat it all before he got home from work.

When making the fudge, I had usually poured it into a buttered 9 x 13 glass pan, but the night before Thanksgiving, I felt the call to tradition and poured it instead onto two buttered plates.

The two buttered plates worked out quite well this time. I brought one plate of fudge to our friends house for Thanksgiving dinner and Dale and the kids were thrilled to have another plate at home waiting for them.

Peanut Butter Fudge:

3 cups sugar

1 1/2 cups evaporated milk

1 t vanilla

1 T butter

1 28oz jar smooth peanut butter

(I recall Dale’s Mama telling me her brand preference for use in fudge was Peter Pan, then Skippy, then Jiff. However, Tami claims Skippy was most preferred. This is an unresolved family dispute.)

Pour sugar and evaporated milk into thick bottomed pan. Stir to combine. Bring to boil on top of stove. Lower to simmer. Stir often. Color of mixture will turn caramel. Cook to soft ball stage. (When mixture is dropped off a spoon into very cold water, it forms a soft ball) Remove from heat. Add vanilla and butter. Stir. Add almost entire jar of  peanut butter. (The amount of peanut butter left in the jar is the cooks preference. Dale’s sister Tami uses approximately 2/3′s of the jar. I use approximately 3/4′s of the jar.) Stir until fudge starts to stiffen or arm grows tired. Pour into buttered 9×13 pan or onto 2 buttered plates. Place in fridge until set and store in fridge. It is a soft, not hard fudge.