Ten minutes.

[mrissa]

I'm trying to order from Otto's: some chocolates for Mikulas, and some sour cherry preserves, some wine, plum halves, good garlic powder, smoked paprika garlic sausage, and did I mention chocolates for Mikulas? I think Otto himself answered the phone -- anyway some fella in his late middle years with a rather thick Hungarian accent -- and he is to call me back and "mark it down" for me. "You can order a million dollars worth if you like!" said Otto-or-not, "but in ten minutes, okay? There are one hundred high school kids right here, and they will run over the store if I don't take their money." So I gave him my phone number, and in ten minutes I will hear from him.

We all know the Hungarian Ten Minutes, which ranges from two minutes to two hours. But I will try again tomorrow if I can't get through today. There Will Be chocolates for Mikulas. We have birch rods aplenty in the back yard, and anyway I don't think anyone has earned them this year. We are taking as many light-in-darkness festivals as we can get away with this year. Mikulas around the house, Saint Nicholas separately with my Catholic not-really-cousins, Santa Lucia around the house again. Light up the candles, punch the saffron dough into submission, pass out the chocolate, because it is dark out there, but it won't stay dark forever.