Saturday, November 27, 2010

Miles to Go

The best Thanksgivings are those that stretch out for a solid 72 hours.

We're in the homestretch, but some of the very best lies in wait. How many times can you eat turkey in one weekend? A better question might be, How many times are you lucky enough to eat turkey in one weekend? And I haven't even begun to think about the left-overs...

We woke up Thursday to a thick shroud of gossamer fog.

There's just something about unexpected atmospheric conditions that get me riled up. I've said it before - I'll take my surprises any way they come.

I spent the morning baking Luscious Four-Layer Pumpkin Cake.

(If you squint a little, it just might look like this.)

I dredged pear slices in cinnamon sugar for the Pear Almond Cream Cheese Torte.

I washed dishes so many times I very nearly passed out and fell in.

We spent the evening in a house packed tight with people happy to be together. The food was good, but you probably suspected that.

On Friday Cory and I snuck away to Mazatlan with some out-of-towners, and now I know for sure: The only thing better than a turkey dinner is one followed the next day by a Mexican lunch.

All day long, I thought it was Saturday, and what made it even more confusing is the fact that I had thought the very same thing all day Thursday.

Three Saturdays in a row? Score.

We spent Friday (Saturday II) night with friends who are dear to us. The kids got wild together, the big people talked nerdy things like fancy phones and good books over bowls of apple crisp a'la mode.

Today, Saturday III, has been just one more scoop of goodness. Just when you think you can't expect any more, just when you think the cone will topple over, you are proven wrong.

The kids are happy. The parents are lazy in a way that lends itself to peeling and mashing ten pounds of potatoes in one's pajamas.

Polly has been rescued once, rescued twice, rescued twenty-five times.

Pie Pot is charming as a merry-go-round tune (in between fits).

The babies are resting, and we are lounging. We're gathering our strength for another feast.

This is Thanksgiving at its best - the way I remember it most happily.

I miss my family, flung too-far, but I am thankful for the family that brought me into theirs.

Happy Thanksgiving Round Two, my dears.