A Vermont Family Christmas

When New York Times best-selling author Ellen Stimson began house-hunting in Vermont with her family 13 years ago, their laundry list of must-haves was concise, yet inflexible. With two teenagers and a 7-year-old in tow, the decision to relocate from St. Louis hadn’t come lightly. But the whole family agreed, Vermont was the place. “We were looking for an old house in the woods or possibly the village, with mountain views, a big gourmet kitchen, four or five bedrooms, and lots of porches—cheap,” says Ellen.

You could say four turned out to be their magic number. After touring nearly 40 homes, they finally found it—a 1838 farmhouse with Victorian flair (a large addition had been added in 1917) and four magnificent porches on four acres of wooded property. “[My daughter] and I imagined a slew of languid sunbathing afternoons drinking lemonade and reading trashy magazines,” Stimson wrote in her first book, Mud Season, a memoir about her family’s upheaval and eventual settling in Dorset, Vermont.

Once inside, the interior did not disappoint: Six bedrooms and a kitchen big enough to satisfy Ellen’s love of baking were simply icing on the cake, because it was actually the library, with its 11-foot tin-and-copper ceiling, that Ellen says sealed the deal for them. “It was a perfect place for the Christmas tree,” she says. “We’re the type of people who think about where the tree will go before we even buy the house. In my fantasy it was only a matter of time before we were drinking eggnog in front of the fire, the dogs curled up at our feet.” Indeed, it was the notion of Christmas that told them they were finally home.

For this family of five, Christmas is woven so tightly into their identity it can be difficult to pinpoint if and when the holiday actually begins and ends. (“We chose Vermont in part because it’s the single most Christmasy place in the nation,” says Ellen.) In fact, Ellen’s marriage to her husband, John, began with a Christmas nut roll. During the first Christmas season of their courtship, John showed up at Ellen’s front door covered in flour, a big grin on his face. Ellen remembers a moment of confusion before John said, “I’ve been baking all day with my grandma and we made this for you.” 

“He’s holding out this beautiful nut roll and I think, Oh my god. This man bakes with his grandma. This is the man I have to spend my life with,” says Ellen. Two years later, they married underneath their twinkling Christmas tree. And as their family started to grow, another Christmas tradition began to take shape. Each year, on the first week of December, they take a family vacation they’ve come to call “Christmas Adventure,” where each family member picks out a new ornament for the tree.

“Our Christmas tree has become the story of our lives,” says Ellen. “There’s a beautiful glass Indian from when Benjamin was little and playing American West all the time, and little cats from when Hannah was young. There’s a spun-glass lobster and a lobster trap from when we adventured in Maine. The ornaments tell the history of this family. My kids are just as excited about Christmas as they were when they were little.” And when it comes time to decorate their home for the season, they don’t have to look much further than their own backyard, which is situated in a valley surrounded on all sides by mountains. The family collects fallen birch bark to use as accents around the home and fills mercury vases with greenery that’s right outside their door—pine, hemlock, winter berries, and holly.

“Vermont fills my senses and soothes my soul in a way that city living never did,” says Ellen.

“We have a bunch of pine trees just above our meadow where we get these adorable little pinecones. I fill bowls and vases with them. Sometimes I help nature a little by putting a tiny bit of white paint on the ends of them, because when they’re outside, they’re always snow-dipped. A teeny bit of white paint with a touch of silver glitter can re-create the snow-touched, magic feeling you get walking around woods.” 

GET THE RECIPE: Grandma Rimarchik’s Slovak Nut Roll