Proof that year one of the Lyon family tradition of a Swedish dinner on Christmas Eve happened.
Couldn't pass up the formal place settings--mixed with paper stuff for the kids of course. Don't mind my table cloth that doesn't quite make it to the end of our "fancy" dining room set up.
Authentic Swedish candlesticks. I didn't know it then, but they were a sweet gift.
It was a success! We didn't get the bread perfect, but it was still edible. Brad loves being in the kitchen cooking and baking my family traditions into reality. Lucky me. Am I becoming too dependent? I'm not sure I could be a host all by myself.
Note Ryan in the back between his two boys in red shirts. (Our beloved former home teacher and friend.) We forgot he served his mission in Sweden. It was scary thinking that we didn't really know how Swedish our dinner was...but he'd had the rice pudding before. Phew.
The Holt's brought their chimes and duets. We chimed, they played piano, I fluted, and the adults sang. That made it feel a lot more like Christmas. I'm not sure we even missed being home.
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