It's so easy to list off what we're thankful for, our hearts just brim with it when everything's going well. Take this morning, for example. I woke up, bound and DETERMINED to be thankful for each and every thing that comes my way. Determined to be done with all complaining. The steps were icy when I took the dogs outside, there was one cup of cold coffee in the pot, then I had to take Sunny out a second time...she peed like a good girl, but then started circling and squatting on the deck as we were going back in the house, so back down the icy steps we went...fast forward to new coffee, dogs all fed, load of towels put into the washer, time to sit down and write my thankfulness post...and where in the H (heck, of course) is my computer? I had to go room searching, it was in the second one I checked.
And guess what? rrr. Already, rrr. But my conviction to be thankful remains in place, I didn't give in and slam the door, ha.
Anyway. Today is Thanksgiving. Evelyn and I made six pumpkin pies last night. Suzanne, Charlotte Claire, and Camille helped peel apples for two huge apple pies. Then I made two chocolate pudding pies...and somehow I cooked INSTANT pudding. In the store, I distinctly asked one of my daughters if it was the right kind, and oh yes, Mom, it's the cook kind...I don't put my glasses on for every little thing, but maybe they're right, maybe I do need one of those glasses chains. Anyway, I had those buttery flaky pie crusts all baked and cooled down, and I put the pudding on the stove...it wasn't turning out right. So I fetched the box from the garbage, found my spectacles, and yup. Wrong pudding. Jonathan declared that it tasted fine, so we have two chocolate pies in the fridge that aren't my usual.
We are planning on having brunch, then a later dinner. Our overnight French Toast didn't get made. The girls were invited to a birthday party yesterday evening, Jon too, and Evelyn brought them. The girls left here weren't much interested in more kitchen stuff, especially because Kathryn made us marvelous Keto pizza, and Suzanne made three frozen pizzas...we were done. So we will just have regular French toast, but we have some really nice Italian bread to make it with.
When I was a little girl, we only had black olives on Thanksgiving. We weren't dirt poor, but we didn't have much. We were a YAY It's Payday! kind of family. It was like the apex of good eating, which gradually went downhill, until it was pancakes with corn in them for dinner the day before the next payday. Payday eating was having our own chicken leg, instead of chicken in some sort of soup or casserole, or having hamburgers. The rest of our dinners seemed to involve Spam, pasta, and eggs.
So Thanksgiving was really special. We saved the crusts from the bread loaves, put them in the freezer, Casey and I had the job of breaking the slices into pieces...my mother would mix in onions and celery, sage, salt and pepper, and pour the dripping from the turkey into it, mix it all up with her hands, and it was the best stuffing. She always made piles of pies, it was absolutely the only time of the year we had pie.
I remember the windows steaming up from the turkey roasting, and the smell of the house. My father wasn't a very social man, he sat at the table with us for a little while and we tried to behave, but when he left the table and sat in his chair in the living room with his newspaper, the fun at the table began. There were seven of us kids, and we certainly had a good growing up.
It makes my heart sad that these Thanksgivings will be fond memories for my own kids, someday. They too will grow up and have their own families. I miss my parents like crazy around the holidays.
But it's not a day to be sad.
Our puppy is doing better, she seems to have turned the corner in the housebreaking business...she's not beyond an accident, but she seems to have figured out that inside is not the right place...she only peed inside once yesterday that I am aware of. And two nights with no accidents! She is a little sunshine...a sunshine who still keeps an eye on what might be reachable on the tables and counters, who chews shoes with no partiality. She still roughhouses with Suri, they drive me nuts.
Anyway. It's Thanksgiving, and I am the mom. That means that I have to get out of my comfy chair and start doing stuff. Our house feels laden with good stuff...heavy whipping cream and baby dill pickles, fresh green beans and those crunchy little onions...and pie, oh I can't wait for pie.
Paul is out hunting again, he'll be back for dinner.
The kids are all still sleeping, I have been out with the puppy four times now, it's good exercise but not exactly relaxing. She needs to learn to hold her bladder for longer periods of time. My coffee got cold...
Yesterday Miss Sonja Kathleen went to the doctor for her knee, and was cleared to go ahead and play sports and gym again, after all these months of physical therapy. We parked on the street, and some of the sidewalks were covered in two feet of snow, so we had to walk in the road.
We went to Wegman's, it was a madhouse. I had to wait ten minutes just to get a parking spot.
Our microwave broke the other day...it started smelling and making a funny noise, then didn't heat the frozen veggies...I just unplugged it....and resigned myself to buying a new one. I did my research, yet we ended up getting one from Walmart. The ones in BJ's were on sale online, but not in the store. Then, it was time for gymnastics...a drive through coffee at this nice little new place, then a nice hour of watching the kids tumble and jump around.
Home...put everything away, start on pies, finish pies at 10:00 p.m., way tired.
This is Mirielle...she's my fourth child, but alas, no longer a child, at 26. She's a nurse in the cancer department (department? ward? center?) at the big hospital in the city, Emily also works there, in the medical ICU. Anyway, Mirielle has to work a 12 hour shift today. That makes me sad, because she's an excellent planner, a really good cook, and so much fun when the whole family is here. Nurses don't always get the holidays off, and when you have four nurses in the family (Aaron is in California anyway, but still, ha.), it's extremely rare to have an occasion where ALL of them can make it. I am sad that Mirielle isn't going to be here, but thankful for those patients that are blessed with her care, I know I am probably a little biased, but I think must be an excellent nurse...she's always been thoughtful and the kind of girl who would use all of her money to buy a gift for someone. A bit ago one of her sisters was going through a hard time, so Mirielle ordered her a dress, and told her a present was coming in the mail for her. One of life's greatest blessings is when your kids grown up and become your friends.