Solstice

On the darkest day of the year, 39 of us slid down the LumRuss driveway to arrive at an island of warmth, light, and hospitality. We gathered for the perennially outstanding feast known as Julbord – Swedish for “I dream of July.” And what a feast! While it is a cliché to assert once again that Judy outdid herself, and despite the logical certainty that at some point it becomes impossible to make that assertion, Judy outdid herself. The meal featured sculpted delicacies ranging from spherical to orthogonal, with origami in between. We enjoyed melon balls, meatballs, poached potatoes, spiral cut ham, folded smoked salmon, herring, various cheeses and flat breads, all of which have exotic-sounding Swedish names that Hans can pronounce, but have been forgotten by this writer. I do remember that Hans pronounced the entire presentation flawlessly authentic. Just when we thought we could eat no more, our indefatigable hostess unveiled a fancy tablefull of cakes, cheesecakes and coffees. If you made the mistake of not attending, you have my condolences. The way I see it, the only acceptable excuse for missing the LumRuss Julbord is to be out flying somewhere in New Zealand. Today our hemisphere turns back toward the sun. That thought goes a long way toward fending off cabin fever, but not as far as the sight of so many friends gathered to celebrate the season.