Let's Keep Giving, Thanks

This year marked the first Thanksgiving of my entire family being together, so you can imagine the level of excitement that such a day held.

It began with preparations,

hanging out in the kitchen

while waiting for others to arrive.

Then,

the table set and waiting,

we made our way around it.

 We passed the food,

gathered it to our plates.

And then,

 we promptly cleaned those plates,

and gathered the moments to ourselves.

We had to take a break then,

so the men lounged,

the grandparents played,

the siblings cleaned the kitchen.

Then there was time to let the food settle,

 talk to someone you hadn't had the chance to in a while,

play with Grandma & P-Pa's toys.

Soon we found ourselves at the table again though,

 for pie,

and surprise birthday celebrations.

Uncle Dave and Daniela bonded over candle-blowing 

[both actual and simulated],

 and then we just hung out, 

enjoying each other

and the moments of cute thrown in by our littlest one.

 Then there was more catching up,

 more cute,

 some fierce competition,

even more cute.

And,

 although no one actually ate the birthday cake,

at least the mystery of why the Graham Cracker Cream Pie turned green was solved by the end of the night.

[???]

All together, a gift we gave each other.

Let's keep giving it kids--

let's give it with many thanks.

My ladies

Though the icy conditions on Tuesday threatened to keep me in PA longer than I planned, Wednesday morning I woke up to cleared streets and a forecast less daunting than originally prescribed.

Hence, I threw my suitcase in my car
and headed New Jersey-ward.

I had an appointment to keep after all,

a pie making date with my maternal-side ladies.

The recipe, my great-grandmother's.

The keeper of it,

her last remaining daughter.

Her daughters:

my favorite ladies to laugh with,

since we've been laughing this way for all of my life.

After the pies were safely in the oven,

we sat together for awhile,

having a late afternoon 'cuppa teah'.

A lovely afternoon,

with my ladies.

This is a First

Confession: I have never, 

in all my culinary years, cooked a turkey.

Resolution: To change.

Solution:

 Buy a fresh young turkey [born for such a day as this].

 Stir up some brine.

 Make introductions.

 Stick him in a bag [and apologize for grossed-out friend's less-than-welcoming behavior].

 Introduce turkey to brine, brine to turkey.

 Plop them both in the cooler,

 and stick them in the garage.

Pack with ice, and go to bed.

Awake,

to a delightfully snowy day.

 Gather together a mixture of flavor;

 chop.

 Introduce flavor to its new home;

 introduce turkey to his.

Wait. Listen to the freezing rain dripping down around the house.  Breathe in the incredible  aroma of a fresh young turkey, 

living out his destiny.

 Soon enough, remove turkey from oven;

collect his drippings while he rests.

[He's had a long day.]

Then, since the party you were aiming to share him at is postponed to next week due to weather, 

carve him up [and acknowledge to yourself that perhaps your carving skills need some work].

Package him up for the freezer [with large amounts of snitching], and pat yourself on the back for successfully completing your mission.

A first for me,

a first for him.

I wonder who enjoyed it more?

I've always wanted one...

Let me tell you a story from my past.

I was in college, telling all of my friends my newest plan:

To get my nose pierced.

Long story short, one of my friends got her nose pierced first.

And I, being ferociously independent, would not consider being considered a follower, and so remained pierceless.

I consoled myself with the thought that there was always time, there was always the future.

Through the years, I've thought about it here and again.  For a variety of reasons, however, I've set the idea aside each time.

But, this past weekend, I found myself in the mall, at a piercing booth, hearing answers to questions nose-piercing related....

for dear old Katy Stu.

Indeed, my good friend took the nose piercing plunge, as I looked on with supportive cheer.

And, though she offered me the opportunity to share in her moment, 

I declined.

Take your moment girl, 'cause you look great.

[I'll just think on joining you...for another 10 years...]

Last First Snow?

Things are a-changin' at my house, 

with engagements and opportunities elsewhere for my housemates.

I find myself in a season of 'this will probably be the last [insert occasion here] in this house...', and, since this house has been good to me, it seems a bit poignant.

So, when I woke up later than usual this morning, slipped downstairs to make my coffee, and stood looking out on the deck in a semi-routine moment of gazing out on the morning sky, 

I thought:

Last First Snow.

[Setting aside my reaction of 'why is there snow on the ground?!']
I paused, to take a moment to say unto myself: 'Notice this. Allow the closing of this season to unfold before you. Remember to breathe it in, remember to remember it.'

Last First Snow, I see you.