Experience the Magic of Christmas All Year Round
A Handmade Treasure and a Cup of Cheer This afternoon, my darlings, I simply must share a little joy that found its way to my kitchen door. As I was tidying up from lunch and pondering what treat to bake next (Santa keeps hinting about
July 1st • A Life With Santa Blog Post Oh, my darlings, Let me tell you something that might surprise you. You know Santa as jolly. Cheerful. Full of ho-ho-hos and cookies. But I know him as something else, too—fiercely competitive when it comes to
June 17th – Life with Santa Blog Post
Oh, my darlings,
If you think Santa only craves sugar cookies and peppermint bark, well… bless your heart, but you don’t know my husband.
Yes, he adores Christmas (we all do here), but when the snow softens just enough to coax the wild herbs from the north-facing rocks, and the smell of pine shifts from frosty to sun-warmed, Santa begins to crave summer meals—and near the top of that list? Potato salad.
But not just any potato salad. Oh, no. Santa has strong opinions on this matter. He says, and I quote:
“Potato salad is like a cookie—every batch has its own personality. And not every personality gets along with mine.”
He’s a mayo man. Strictly mayo. Real mayo, the kind that’s creamy and full of body, not the whipped, fluffy stuff. And don’t you dare sneak in a spoonful of mustard or a speck of relish—not unless you want a disappointed Santa peering at you over his glasses like you’ve just told him the reindeer are unionizing.
Now, I must confess—getting a Vidalia onion up here is nearly a Christmas miracle in itself. But with a little help from a very kind elf in our import department (who happens to owe me a favor or three), I usually manage to have one on hand for this special dish.
It’s a treasured tradition: finely diced sweet Vidalia onion, a healthy heap of chopped hard-boiled eggs (Santa insists on at least two per person), radishes and celery for bite and color, and tender russets or red potatoes—peeled before boiling, of course, because mushy skins in a cold salad are no way to treat a marriage.
Now, Santa usually enjoys this potato salad with a grilled hamburger, juicy and hot off the fire pit. But Herman—his right-hand elf—prefers it with a grilled cheese sandwich.
Well, he says he’s a vegetarian, but I once saw him polishing off a bowl of chicken noodle soup and humming carols afterward. So, make of that what you will. More on Herman’s dietary flexibility another day.
The mayo amount is up to taste, but here’s my rule, my darlings: if you’re unsure whether there’s enough mayo, stir what you’ve got, then chill the bowl for an hour or two. Once the flavors marry (peacefully, I hope), give it a second taste. If it’s too dry—add a bit more. If it’s swimming, well… you’ve just made North Pole potato soup, and I suggest serving it with a ladle and a sense of humor.
The texture should be pasty, not sloppy, and certainly not soupy. It should hold its own on a plate, but still feel soft and welcoming—like Santa himself.
And there you have it—Santa’s favorite summer dish. He says it goes best with a cold mug of lemonade, a grilled hamburger, and a long, quiet sigh before dessert.
And as for me? I think potato salad reminds us of something important: that even the most humble dishes—when made with care, patience, and love—can bring comfort to those we cherish.
“Better a dish of vegetables where love is than a fattened ox with hatred.” —Proverbs 15:17
So go make something simple today, my darlings. And stir in a little joy while you’re at it.
With a chilled bowl in the fridge and joy in my heart,
—Mrs. Claus
6 Months To Go! Oh, my darlings, 🧼 You’d think June would be a quiet month up here at the North Pole, but no. Absolutely not. The peppermint plants are sprouting crooked, half the elves are sunburned from chasing snow reflections, and I’ve had to
Santa Does NOT Love Change: But He Is Trying! Oh dear, my darling readers, I find myself in quite a pickle! Bless Santa’s heart; he’s become a bit of a curmudgeon lately. Now, before you worry, I must clarify that he is not by nature
Oh, how I’ve missed you all this past week! Things here at the North Pole have been busier than usual, and it seems like the Christmas season is already upon us, even though we still have weeks to go. The shop has been bustling, and I’ve had my hands full at home, too. But there’s been another reason for my absence. MY dear friend Mrs. Faulkner had a little accident. She fell off a step ladder while trying to hang garland in her lovely home and twisted her ankle quite badly. As soon as I heard the news, I knew I had to lend a helping hand.
So, this past week, I’ve been spending my days at Mrs. Faulkner’s, helping her with cooking and cleaning while she rests and heals. Oh my darlings—though I went there to serve her, I feel like I’m the one who has been blessed. Isn’t that the way it works sometimes? You set out to give, and somehow, you’re the one who ends up receiving so much more. Which of course has brought me to write this post and title it “Mrs. Claus’s Blog Post: A Week of Blessings and Reflection on Santa’s Poetry”.
Mrs. Faulkner’s home is one of those places that just feels like a warm hug when you walk in. Her cottage is lovely, with an open layout that makes it feel even more welcoming. Her kitchen is spacious, and there’s a large 8-foot doorway that opens into her living and dining area. So, while I was bustling about in the kitchen, she sat in a comfy chair, positioned between the two rooms with her ankle propped up on a well-loved ottoman, and we spent our time talking, laughing, and reminiscing.
What a grand time we had together! We shared stories from the past, some so old they felt like they belonged to another era altogether, which of course they did, and others as recent as yesterday. Mrs. Faulkner is one of those friends who always makes you feel like you’ve known each other forever. The conversation flows so naturally, and before you know it, hours have passed. We even sang a few Christmas songs—yes, even this early in the year! There’s something about Christmas music that just brings joy, no matter the season. And when we weren’t talking or singing, we were reading.
Reading is where this story really takes an interesting turn. One afternoon, while Mrs. Faulkner rested, I pulled out my favorite copy of A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens to read out loud softly to her. Now, I’ve read this classic many times over the years, but this time was different. As I thumbed through the pages, I found something tucked inside that I had forgotten about. It was a poem called “A Reflection of Love,” written by none other than Santa himself.
I will share something about Santa that you may not know. He’s a wonderful writer! He has a gift with words, and over the years, he’s written the most beautiful letters and poems. I tucked this particular poem into the book ages ago, and finding it again felt like uncovering a little treasure. It reminded me just how special his words are—simple yet profound and from deep within his heart, much like the man himself.
I shared the poem with Mrs. Faulkner, and it brought tears to her eyes. It’s such a tender reminder of the love that entered our world on that first Christmas night. I thought I’d share it with you too, my dear readers, because it speaks to the heart of what this season is truly about.
O humble King of Heaven’s light,
Who left the throne on Christmas night,
To wear the robe of flesh and bone,
And call the wandering heart Your own.
You came not with a crown of gold,
But with a love so deep and bold,
To save us from the weight of sin,
And give us life, new hope within.
O Jesus, Child of Bethlehem,
You hold my heart within Your hands,
And as I kneel before Your throne,
I give You thanks, for love You’ve shown.
Isn’t it beautiful? It reminds me that Christmas isn’t about the tinsel, the glitter, or even the presents. It’s about love—the kind of love that was born in a manger long ago. It’s about a love so deep, so wide, that it reaches into every corner of our hearts and lives if we make room for it.
Spending time with Mrs. Faulkner this week was a humbling experience in so many ways. She was so grateful for the help, and her sincere thanks really touched my heart. You know, sometimes we go into a situation thinking we’re the ones giving, but in reality, it’s the person we’re helping who blesses us. Mrs. Faulkner’s gratitude was a gift to me, a reminder that the greatest blessings often come from the simplest moments.
While I was there to cook and clean, we shared so much more. We laughed over old stories, we sang songs of praise, and we spent quiet moments together, enjoying the warmth of friendship. It was one of those weeks that reminded me why I love this season so much—not just the Christmas season, but the season of life. It’s in these moments of connection, of serving one another, that we find the true spirit of love and joy.
As I sit here now, reflecting on the week that’s passed, I’m reminded of the importance of gratitude. Gratitude has a way of changing our perspective, of turning what we have into enough. Mrs. Faulkner, even with her twisted ankle, never once complained. Instead, she was thankful for the help, thankful for the companionship and thankful for the time we shared. That’s something we can all learn from, my darlings.
Gratitude, like love, is something that grows the more you give it away. The more you focus on what you have to be thankful for, the more you see how truly blessed you are. And that’s something I plan to carry with me as we move into the busy months ahead.
As we head into the final months of the year, I encourage you to take a moment to reflect on the blessings in your life. What are you grateful for? Who are the people that make your life richer? Take a moment to let them know, whether through words, a kind gesture, or even just a quiet prayer of thanks.
I know things will only get busier here at the North Pole, but I promise I’ll be back to blogging more regularly. And who knows, maybe Santa will let me share a few more of his poems with you. He’s quite the writer, after all.
Until next time, my darlings, take care of yourselves, hold your loved ones close, and remember that the heart of Christmas is found in the love we give.
With love and blessings,
Mrs. Claus
PS Don’t you love this painting of Santa writing letters? It reminded me of him writing his poetry…just fills my heart!
It’s Only Tuesday, But What a Week It’s Been! Hello my darlings, Oh, what a week it’s been, and would you believe it’s only Tuesday! The holiday season may not be upon us quite yet, but here at the North Pole, it always feels like
I’ve Been Meaning to Tell You About WYUL – YuleTime Radio Hello, my darlings! I was in the middle of one of my house-cleaning frenzies—sweeping the floors, tidying up, and making sure the pantry was organized (I do love an orderly pantry). I opened the
I know this was a short post my darlings, but I actually hadn’t planned on posting today. But then I found this on my phone. When Santa took a selfie the other day (I shared that in a previous post) I hadn’t realized that he had taken a short video clip but to be honest, he hadn’t realized it either…he isn’t very tech savvy!
Hope this brings a smile to your day!
Until later,
Mrs. Cluas
Well, my dear, you wouldn’t believe it, but Santa is absolutely mad for taco salad. Yes, you heard that right—taco salad! It’s not just a summer treat around here; it’s one of those meals we enjoy all year round. In fact, it’s become something of
Time to Reveal a Little Secret Well, I suppose it’s time I come clean. Santa and I had a little chat over tea the other night, and he said, “You know, my dear, with all the bits and bobs of the North Pole we’re revealing
Goodness me, where does the time go? Another Sunday has arrived, bringing with it the promise of rest, reflection, and a much-needed pause from the busyness of the week. I often find that Sundays have a way of reminding us of what’s truly important—family, faith, and a heart full of gratitude.
Regardless of how busy Santa is during the week at this time of year (and trust me, he’s busy!), he always makes time to go to church to spend time in worship and fellowship. It’s a balm to the soul, and Santa never misses a chance to worship Jesus, One who gave His everything for all who would receive His precious and priceless gift. It helps Santa find the strength and joy to continue his work with a full heart. Sometimes after church we have dinner with others, either at their home or ours, but today, after Santa had been so under the weather this past week, we decided to come home for a quiet meal—just the two of us, and the Saints of course.
And what did Santa request for lunch? One of his favorites: a pan-fried hamburger on a fresh bun with cheese, ketchup, mustard, and… sauerkraut. Yes, you heard that right—sauerkraut! It’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but Santa loves it. I paired it with homemade french fries from our garden’s fresh russet potatoes, and he washed it all down with a nice, cold glass of iced tea, dear me, based on this menu, you would think it was summer! But simple, hearty, and just what he needed to get back on his feet.
As I sit in my kitchen this afternoon, the smell of freshly baked buns still lingers in the air—an old recipe passed down from my grandmother that is actually a bread recipe but makes delicious buns. That recipe is a weekend tradition to put to rise. Be it bread, buns or even dinner rolls or sweet rolls from that one recipe, you find something fresh coming out of my oven on the weekend. There’s something comforting about traditions, isn’t there? Whether it’s a recipe or a simple Sunday routine, traditions have a way of grounding us, reminding us of our roots, and connecting us to those we love, even if they’re far away.
Now, I won’t keep you long—I know Sundays are special for all of us in different ways. But I do want to encourage you to take a moment today. Pause, reflect, and maybe give yourself the gift of a quiet afternoon. Rest isn’t something we earn; it’s something we need. Even Santa, bless him, knows that! And speaking of rest, I plan to make Santa one of his favorite fruit smoothies later tonight for dessert—a little something light and refreshing to end the day.
So, take a breath, my dear friends. Whether you spend your Sunday in church, in your garden, or curled up with a good book, remember to make space for what fills your heart with peace. As for me, I’ll be here in my cozy kitchen, sipping my cocoa, reading a bit of my Bible, meditating upon its words, and sending warm thoughts your way.
Until next time,
With love and warmth,
Mrs. Claus