Cheerful mugs of warming goodness — what better way to cheer up 
on dreary winter mornings or cozy up at night? Or anytime. I love pulling out holiday mugs and cups every December. When piled up on a tray in the kitchen, they double as the best kind of decor: cheap and functional! From morning cappuccinos to post-lunch macchiatos to afternoon tea to evening hot cocoa, I’ve got every drink situation covered. Not that I drink coffee and espresso and tea and hot cocoa all day — well, actually, I do. But of course some holiday drinks are not rich and hot and creamy and served in a sturdy mug — such as these cool ruby-red margaritas my friend Evelyn served us at our Christmas book-club gathering. Delicious and refreshing.
And for another delicious and refreshing treat, how about the No. 2 pick on my list of favorite Christmas movies? It’s “Christmas Vacation” (1989) with Chevy Chase. How can you not sympathize with Clark Griswold, the Every Little Man who sincerely wants to provide a stupendous Christmas for his family despite almost insurmountable odds? It’s like an updated “Wonderful Life,” only with redneck cousins. I absolutely love this movie. It’s the first movie I pop into the player when the holiday-movie mood strikes. From the opening Christmas-tree hunt to the final group hug, this movie delights every year. I adore the light-stringing scenes and Clark and Eddie’s shopping trip and literally laugh out loud as the family arrives and settles in. The Christmas dinner is priceless, and is there anybody not touched by Clark’s look at Christmas Past while he’s stuck in the attic? Randy Quaid is at his comic best here, and it’s nice to see a young Juliette Lewis be normal before she convinced herself she’s a rock star. However, the thing about “Christmas Vacation” is that my husband strongly dislikes it – which is very strange because usually he goes for gross-out humor flicks and I head for the Jane Austen aisle. I’ll admit that some parts are cringe-inducing and pander to the National Lampoon typical demographic, but this movie still ranks right up there for me. Stay tuned tomorrow for my top pick, the best No. 1 all-time greatest Christmas movie in the world. What do you think it is?
There’s just something special about holiday hospitality. When my
friend Evelyn recently hosted the December meeting of our four-woman book club, the other three of us practically refused to get up from her elegant red and gold dinner table when we were finished eating. She made us feel so pampered that only the promise of opening presents in front of the fire — and, oh, yeah, discussing our book of the month — made us leave. I love the way she used simple solid red napkins and plates to create such a festive and sophisticated look, proving once again my grandmother’s timeless advice to always buy red things — they’re good for three out of four seasons, which is a record you cannot beat.
Kaye and its older sibling, the 1942 “Holi
I’m 51 and a grandmother and somewhat capable of 
handling things on my own (no, really, I am) but I still want to go home to my parents’ for Christmas and have everything as it always has been. Like the John Deere village my mom puts up — my dad had a John Deere dealership before he retired and now he buys every JD catalogue and ad that comes up for auction anywhere in the world, or at least in Illinois. And like the 
ornaments I put on the tree when I was a kid, and now my 20-something-year-old children help me put them on their grandparents’ tree — great-grandson 8-month-old Nolan is no help since he would only eat the hooks. And then there’s the great holiday food that only Grommy — what my children call my mother — can make: TV Mix eaten in 40-year-old wooden bowls, graham crackers covered in butter and brown sugar and hot cocoa stirred from scratch in an ancient heavy saucepan. Grandmas definitely are special, and I’d better get my act together if I’m going to be the same for Nolan. But I’ve had lessons from the best, so hopefully I”ve got a headstart. One of my favorite parts of going home during the holidays is coming back to my house with fresh-cut holly and fir branches from my dad’s nursery — one of his other retirement projects. I cannot keep up with them! At least this year I’m making my own Chex mix — I’ll have to call my mom, though, to talk me through.
Donna Reed. I know, I know. It’s a heartwarming American classic. It’s a Frank Capra masterpiece. It’s a multi-layered holiday icon. It’s everybody’s favorite. So why isn’t it No. 1 on my list? Because it used to scare the #$%^ out of me! The drunk pharmacist who boxed young George’s ear and made it bleed, the mean and rowdy crowd at the bar, the cheap and hateful Mr. Potter who caused such misery — these disturbing black-and-white images did not bring me comfort and joy when I was younger. And as I grew older and understood the sacrifices George made and the dreams he lost and the drab and dreary life he felt he was living, it made me sad. George did have a wonderful life but bitterness and regret kept him from realizing it — what a waste for all those years. I mainly feel sorry for him. It’s a good thing Clarence comes along to shake him up because I sort of want to do that myself. And here’s the thing: Where were all George’s friends before the bank shortfall? Why does it take a crisis to bring them together and make them value him? Do these people ever stop by to say “hello” or to eat lunch or go to a ballgame? And will they do that now? Or am I being too cynical? You have to admit, though, it’s the kind of movie that breeds cynicism if you didn’t have a healthy dose of it already. Like me. Come back tomorrow for No. 3 — a bonus two-fer. Can you guess what they are?
Coffee with Cathy 