Sweet Times at the Raiha's

A segment from "Stay Outa My House," a story in my third book Lessons with Love

Twas the Night after New Year’s and all through the Love house, most creatures were NOT stirring, but I, in my sweats, was watching TV.  In fact, I hadn’t even washed or combed my hair that day.  The whole family had been pretty lazy since we’d spent the previous festive night  welcoming in 1994 with some old friends, the Raiha family. 

New Year’s Eve is a big night at the Raihas.  Rauno came to the United States from Finland in his teens.  His wife Margarete immigrated to Washington, D.C. from Germany as a junior in high school.  

When the two eventually met, married and produced their three children Andy, Dan and Deanne, old-country traditions blended with their new American forms of celebration.  The family followed a set, always enjoyable procedure every holiday, especially on Christmas and New Year’s Eve.    

At Christmas time, it was the tall, skinny tree cut from the family property, brought to the house and embellished with strategically-placed limbs cut from other trees.  

The Raihas also earned fame among friends throughout the community for their annual trays of assorted German Christmas cookies, each intricately formed, decorated and exquisitely wrapped in cellophane.  Except for the year the dog ate most of our tray, Bill always stood a protective watch over the cookies, gradually selecting and removing his favorites from the assortment for himself. 

A week later, each year, we usually attended the Raiha's New Year’s Eve party, knowing we had a full evening of fun in store with ample and delectable fish trays, breads, salads, specialty imported licqeur-filled German chocolates and a variety of fine wines to suit each stage of the evening’s activities.  

Amiable conversation, including a few quips from Rauno about “those Russians,” always made for a convivial feast.  After the smorgasboard, guests gathered with the Raiha family around the piano as Margarete accompanied our mostly off key voices in traditional Christmas songs.  Except for the few talented singers, most of us were pretty bad, but with the good wine and amiable camaraderie, who cared if “It Came upon a Midnight Clear” sounded like it really ought to go back to wherever it came from?   

As this special midnight drew clearly closer and the carolers resorted to more lip-synching than actual singing, we all gravitated to the kitchen where Rauno had an assortment of aluminum-cast bullets ready for melt-down.  Once the big moment of the New Year arrived and we’d finished off glasses of champagne, everyone took turns participating in the old German tradition of pouring molten lead into cold water.  

In each case, the marriage of lead and water created a unique, sometimes grotesque shape, destined to be interpreted as a symbol for what might lie ahead in the new year for that particular person.  And at that late hour in the young year, we’d come up with some pretty creative interpretations.

As the clock struck 2 a.m. on January 1, 1994, someone in the Love family suggested that it was probably time to go home.  The hint was disregarded, for one more conversation would lead to another.  I’m sure this enthusiastic early-morning chatting was the Raiha’s method of making sure the wine had worn off and that all the guests were all fit to drive home from their charming home, nestled in the woods east of Sandpoint.

After saying what seemed like a hundred “good-byes” and many “thank you’s” for the wonderful hospitality, we had finally arrived at our home at 3:30 a.m.  After too few hours of sleep, we all slouched around the house, doing little other than feeding the animals, stuffing ourselves while watching the New Year’s Day parades and bowl games.  

Not long after dinner that evening, Bill and the kids filed off to bed.  By 9:30 p.m.  I’d decided to let whatever was on the tube lull me to sleep. 
Suddenly, as I was about to doze off, two bright headlights appeared at the end of our long driveway and began beaming their way toward the house . . . . 

I share a portion of "Stay Outa My House" this morning, not because of the uninvited but active "intruders" who came to our house on that New Year's evening---sending me to the bedroom to feign a long winter's nap---but I share because yesterday, for the first time in a long time, the Raiha's revived their holiday party after a several years' hiatus.

Margarete, with her team of kitchen helpers, also set party time for mid-afternoon, which pretty much guaranteed that someone from the early-to-bed Love clan would show up.

Bill and Willie drove into Spokane to watch the Lady Zags, so I represented the family at the gathering consisting of neighbors and longtime friends who know from experience that a Raiha party follows a pattern of delightful eats and good cheer for the new year. 

I took my cameras but left them in the car, not wanting to be create too much of stir among the guests, many of which I was meeting for the first time.

The table in the family dining room, however, begged for a few pictures, so when I mentioned my camera to Margarete, I think she was pleased. 

Glad I brought it because it is very hard to describe with words the artistic culinary flair one encounters with each year's party.  Those veterans among the Raiha guests have seen those cookies and those fish dishes before, but every time we're still amazed with the perfection with individual items and the spread as a whole. 

Anyway, after yesterday, I finally have documented evidence of what I've tried to describe to others over the years after attending these incredible gatherings. 

It was so nice to spend some time back in the always hospitable Raiha house, once again meeting some fascinating people who must have been awestruck if yesterday was their first such experience.

As for the Love's----those who did not attend were granted a free pass because they were at McArthey Athletic Complex watching a basketball game.   You see the Raiha's are just about as crazy about the ZAGS as we are.  Their daughter Deanne is a ZAG grad. 

Also, I must add that the only set of headlights that came into our driveway after I returned home last night belonged to Bill's pickup.  He arrived just before the men's basketball team took on the Dons of San Francisco.

We remained in a bit of a stupor, much like that day many years ago, but this time it was because we could not believe how badly the ZAGS were losing.  

Then, a miracle.  Those players got it together and demonstrated the character and finesse we have always loved about the ZAGS.  Twas truly a miracle victory in overtime, and I have a feeling the team learned a lot about itself and its potential last night.

Great day all the way around.  Thanks, Raiha's!  GO, ZAGS!! You both outdid yourselves, and with your talents and pride, made a lot of folks who admire you really happy. 

Margarete Raiha puts final touches on the holiday party spread. 

Ron Raiha, always a wonderful host and conversationalist, owned the Pend Oreille Sport Shop for several years.  

Let the sampling begin!

Robert, a Raiha friend and local roofer, shows off a plate of Margarete's famous cookies. 

Grandson Everett checks out the offerings after a busy afternoon of playing in the snow. 

I taught all three Raiha children.  Dan helped teach me the ropes of computer-generated Cedar Posts during my first year as adviser to the SHS student paper.

Dan and his wife Tina also worked with Bill at the Idaho Department of Lands.  They also helped Margarete organize the goodies at the party. Hope, on the left, is Everett's friend.