Friday after Thanksgiving

Not to be too commercial-spirited about it, but somehow that vision of a Santa at the end of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade has always ushered in the Christmas season for us. Thursday evening packs two punches: the big meal of course, and too, in the background, my daughter streams beautiful music that has the unmistakable melodies of the December holiday. And the Friday after? Well, at the farmhouse, we're still trying to figure out just exactly how much turkey meat we have in the fridge from The Big Meal, and Ed is enthusiastically filling in the belly of a Santa in the jigsaw puzzle began yesterday...

 

 

... but it is also the day that the young family acquires the Christmas tree and I am in on that project too. The Christmas season is truly upon us.

It is a bitter cold day. By noon we are still below freezing. I had stayed up past midnight to finish tidying up after the blow-out meal, so I only had to put clean dishes away this morning. And of course there was the matter of the animals.

The thing is, days can be beautiful, magical even, but you have to expect small pockets of wistfulness (if only the young family was with us...) and even the occasional calamity. For example, we lost a chicken yesterday. On Thanksgiving morning, Pepper was there. By evening, when Ed went out to put the cheepers away for the night, she was gone.

We'd raised her from baby-hood. Little Pepper, and how she grew! Maybe four years old. Something like that. Once upon a time, she had been the low one in the cheeper hierarchy, but somehow she managed to crawl out and up and since we put in the new girls this spring, she was the queen. All the chickens were scared of her. When she approached the feeding tray, they scattered, hanging back until she was done.

She was also our most reliable layer: nearly every day, even in the cold season, and always in the coop. 

Ed and I are left with the problem of "what now." We have no idea who took her, though we know it was a complete swipe: there are no feathers. No battle. No remains. I suggest we lock them up for a couple of weeks. We'll also put out the trap, if only to see what we are dealing with. 

Ah well. That's what happens when you raise happy chickens: some of them become a feast for another family of animals. And now we are left with five cheepers -- four girls and one boy. (And 6.5 cats.)

Breakfast, alone again for me. At a table with Thanksgiving remains: the table cloth, the extra chairs and high chair, the puzzle. But no Ed. He's still sleeping and I want my coffee.

Eventually I head out to meet up with my daughter and her kids. Let's pick the biggest tree ever -- is the theme. My secondary assignment for this day is to do a holiday photo of the three kids, so I'm being more careful with my camera.

We're at Bruce's tree lot once again and did I mention it's a cold day??

They settle on a nine-footer. And then another little one for their mom's "office" (actually a corner of the bedroom). And lots of pine branches. The cars are loaded with green stuff. The kids are very patient with us.

Very patient.

We are in two cars. All the green stuff gets dropped off at their place and Sparrow stays home for his nap. Snowdrop comes to the farmhouse where, guess what, Ed is still slouched over the jigsaw puzzle.

Snowdrop and I hit the books.

Toward evening, she and I are back at her house. Time to decorate the Christmas tree!  I do believe this is my daughter's favorite holiday moment. There are lots of treats and the music's lovely and even the biggest chore (putting up the lights) seems like a fun play adventure.

(When he's not helping me untangle the lights, Sandpiper is happy just to watch everything and everyone around him...)

Done!

(Definition of a cozy evening....)

I come home in time for a late supper of leftovers with Ed. (That is, once I tear him away from working on the puzzle!) 

The friday after Thanksgiving wears many hats, but there's one that's reliably there for us, year after year: heating up the leftovers. From turkey to apple pie. Delicious leftovers.