Handel's Messiah

I am waking up early each morning, and I am not sure what that means. I only slept a few hours last night and was up before dawn. Eric and Maya were asleep in our big bed (which is not particularly comfortable for me, but works for both of them). I dragged Maya to a 90 minute yoga class at 9:30. She did not want to get moving, but I convinced her that she would feel so much better afterwards. She practiced next to Sid and they were both laughing throughout the class, obviously having a super good time.

I had sent Eric to Williams Sonoma to check out mixers (baking cookies with a hand held is exhausting) so we met for coffee afterwards and a family trip to Trader Joe's. Maya and I had housecleaning to do (I was really looking for my bank card which has disappeared) before going to listen to Daphne playing Handel's Messiah. I was delighted that Maya found herself far more interested than she anticipated. We were all traumatized after the concert; we had just climbed into the car, when we saw an elderly man fall flat on his face in front of our car. I jumped out and ran to him, and lifted him off the ground (he was thin and fragile) and found him bleeding copiously out of his mouth. Maya found napkins for him, and with his wife, I sat him down on a chair inside the church. His wife refused to call an ambulance. I did not think he had broken any bones, had probably bit his lip, so I finally left him to his wife and his friends. Maya was up during the night with frightful dreams about her grandfather falling and hurting himself.

We were all shook up after the incident. Noah was coming over for our third advent dinner. I had twenty minutes to cook up a chicken curry, which Eric complained was not spicy enough. I want Maya to try everything, so I moderate the amount of hot spices I use. The highlight of the evening was whipping up cream in our new mixer and smothering apfelstrudel with a massive pile of whipped cream.