Remember, this

This year, Thanksgiving dawned right around the time it always does, and I found myself in NJ, spending the day in the bosom of my family.  As the day rolled on, as I listened and observed, I thought about how when you're far away, you forget the little things that define the family you've always known.

And so, I found myself saying: 

Remember, this.

Remember the thoughtfully set table,

that dissolves into chaos without much provocation.

Remember the hilarity of the ever-present chatter, the insightful commentary of the cousin, the exclamations of my mother, 

the quiet smiles of my father,

the antics of the uncle and the giggles of the aunt,

the adorableness of our feisty little grandma 

and the booming laughter of the uncle eldest.

 Remember the food that speaks of us,

 the stuffing my mother snitches, the mashed potatoes we never eat, the pearled onions that are the legacy of the grandfather we miss, the butternut squash always added onto the menu by grandma just for me, even the pickle tray that used to speak of homemade pickles and now just speaks of memories;

the famous pumpkin pie originated by our great-grandmother, the extravagant graham-cracker-cream that originated somewhere we can never remember but always have to discuss.  

Remember the old stories that we tell,

and how we crack ourselves up;

 how we're Jersey in our bones, 

with our 'sawce' and our 'cuppa' coffee,

how we douse our cuppa with softened ice cream.

 Remember the napping of the men,

 and the fierce competitions in the lazy afternoon, 

after the table's been cleared and the kitchen cleaned, 

 while we wait for round two;

Remember round two: turkey sandwiches that we must eat no matter how full, pie, more coffee, more talking, more laughing, more loving being together.

Remember what makes us, remember what keeps us.
Remember, this.

Thankful, for this

Amy and Caleb and I hit the fall and barely saw each other enough to sit down and say:

Here's where my heart is these days.

And, since saying such things is crucial to how we have defined our little family, we decided to take the opportunity afforded us by a holiday week to make some food, to sit ourselves down, to have a sincere chat.

I arrived in the evening of a rather long day, and we put ourselves to work, enjoying the busyness of preparing a feast, enjoying the catching up that was spoken over the work.

We did our best to remain on task in our catching up, but found ourselves starving, waiting for everything to be complete.  

[We may have snitched...]

Soon enough, however, we were ready to go,

ready to indulge.

Then, stuffed, we retreated to the couches,

 to finish up our catching up,

to just enjoy the peace of being us, once again.

There's that HOL again...

Yes, it happens every Fall: Lisa and Geoff arrive with Frankie in tow, and we spend blissful moments, being, eating, talking, Hashing Out Life.

This year involved a request for rest; hence, we stayed close to home, and...rested.

Upon a late Friday/early Saturday arrival, we cuddled up in the piano room with hot toddies and immediate catching up.  When we reached incoherence, I tucked my guests into their basement home-away-from-home, where they proceeded to sleep until they were slept up.  They emerged to brunch, of the Fall kind: Pumpkin goodness and plenty of coffee.  We munched it all up, as Lisa lamented my lack of response to her request to follow me on Instagram.  When I explained to her this was a result of my lack of awareness of how to join in pop-culture more than an intentional rejection, she rushed to my side and helped me.

See?

Gradually we retreated from the table, got ourselves spiffed up, and headed outside for a photo shoot in my backyard.  

 I played photographer for awhile 

[stay tuned for L & G's Christmas photo]

 and then got in on the photogenicity.

 Frankie and I had a 'let's try to repair our relationship' moment,

but he's over me. 

[This is what I get for being such a callous heart breaker...]

Overall, the laughter and the sunshine was good for our resting,

and got us ready to head out into the real world,

in order to grab a spot of lunch at one of my favorite spots in town.

 We took the opportunity to browse,

and to reflect on the insistently repetitive and slightly ridiculous music being played for our browsing pleasure. 

[Given the one line played over and over again and the extent to which we discussed it's inanity, one would think I would remember it enough to document it here.....but, I can't.  Apparently my overloaded brain still needed more resting at this point in the day...]

 Eventually, we meandered over to the local cheese shop, so that I could knock over a few things [not fully rested, remember?]

and so L & G could get themselves a relaxing caffeinated beverage.

We then returned home, for Fall HOL tradition:

Margs, of our Margarita Master.

Relaxing in front of the fire, we continued our catching up, our hashing, our resting.

And then?

There were delicious appetizers while Geoff and I created:

the most spectacular meal.

We took a moment to inhale the aromas of the goods being stuffed into our mouths, and to remember: 

We are resting, together, and we are Thankful.

We finished off our night and our weekend with more of the same:  

Good food, good talking, good being.

And we rejoiced: January HOL is never far off!!

Hurricane-ish

Recently a Hurricane ripped through the East Coast, as you may have heard, and its impending threat was so great that even State College felt its effects.

Wind, we were told, would be very high.  Power, we were told, could be down for days.  Prepare, we were told; don't take this threat lightly.

Even Penn State was listening, because as of 1:00 on Monday--when businesses were closing and meetings were cancelling--we all got the word: Go Home.

It meant a miracle for our little household, because Ginger picked Sara and I up at the parking garage that offered to protect our cars for free, and we headed on home for some rare togetherness.

First though, we had to heed those preparation guidelines.  

Thanks to our Florida native,

I spent the duration of the Hurricane in the most preparation I've ever known.  We borrowed bungee cords to tie our grill to our deck.  We moved the furniture inside.  

We collected water in various containers,
and got out alternative light sources.

Then, Sara made us comfort food,

and I:

got comfortable.

The remainder of the evening was spent in cozy togetherness,

as friends came to be with us, 

as wind whipped the windows and rain poured down,

as we poured the wine to warm our bellies, and dwelt in the warmth that comes from being home, safely protected, and together.

Even though it didn't amount to much, we were well aware of our blessing, and of those whose story ended differently.  Our Hurricane was Hurricane-ish; our hearts are with those who are still in the midst of the storm.