When I was growing up we didn't have any Christian family where were lived here in sunny Southern California. And since it was CA, there wasn't any snow on the ground, or any place to go buy hot apple cider, so we had a relatively non-eventful Christmas morning. What was eventful, though, was the fact that my Dad was home for the day.
We started off Christmas morning with my Dad's wonderful eggs with mushrooms and onions. This is an amazing dish that I still haven't managed to get exactly right. Somehow, his will always, always be better than mine... Yummy.
Typically my sister had someone's house she was invited over to, but I always preferred to spend the day with my Dad. We would go out onto the streets, which were amazingly empty. An amazing quality of clean, and fresh and free. Yet odd and totally out of place. Just like the picture below...
We'd drive straight down El Toro road and head for the golf course. Of course, it was 'technically' closed, but it's impossible to really close a golf course, especially one that is connected to a public park like this one is. It's a small, 9-hole course. Nothing to challenging, but when you are 9, it's amazing.
I loved to golf with my Dad. He'd take me about every two months or so, but Christmas morning was the best. No one waiting behind us. No tee time we just had to make. Just me and him and a lot of green empty space. I didn't have to take a mulligans to keep things moving. I could try and try again if I really wanted to. Sometimes we'd keep score, but really it was just such as sweet, lovely time.
Such wonderful Christmas mornings.
What does your Christmas morning look like? Is it different than when you were a child?