Thanksgiving

Wake up at 6.

This is too early! I stay put.

Ed, half asleep, mumbles -- the cake wont bake itself...

I'm up.

Thanksgiving.

Before I plunge into the turmoil of cooking, I must tend to those who need me now. The cheepers, for instance.





Then it begins. Thanksgiving, at the table.

Spice cake (warm!), fruit, bacon...






We are a family of holiday habit. It includes keeping an eye on Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade.






Snowdrop surely loves it!






Did I mention how joyous she is today?






And wanting to help! (Filling the muffin tins...)






She shows off her new dance shoes. (Is she truly just two years old? The pose of a teenager...)






I need to keep on schedule. With so many things to prepare, if I slip, we all will fall!

I chop mushrooms for the gravy. Again Snowdrop wants to help. I give her the knife and she finishes the job. Perfectly.






(Pause for letting everyone's artistic skills take hold...)






Lunch: pureed squash soup and (I admit it, these were not made by me from scratch) spinach and cheese dumplings.






She tells us -- I love squash soup! Snowdrop doesn't just like her favorites. She is always passionately enamored with them!






Over lunch, Ed recounts a befuddling incident. He tells us that he saw no fewer than five kittens playing in the sunlit doorway of the barn.

Say what??? Where did they come from???
Did someone drop them there? It sounds bizarre, but is there any way they could have wandered here on their own? We haven't seen them up until now.  But is that conclusive? They are skittish. They hide at the sound of voices.

We're curious and immediately after lunch we all head for the barn. We see a dash and a scramble and then nothing. By the time we are inside the barn, there's not a kitty in sight.

No matter. Let's play! It's sunny and pretty mild out there!






Ed blows bubbles. Snowdrop chases them.











... then rests with her mommy.






We return to the barn, this time very slowly and very quietly. There they are! Do you see them?






A closeup of two (there are five in all)...





Well now, they're here. Anyone have any idea as to what comes next?

Snowdrop loses herself in sweeping. I don't blame her. We have a lot to think about.






I don't want cats in the farmhouse. But might they simply stay in the barn? But all five? How do we care for them? Ed reminds me that this is the first November where we haven't had a significant mouse problem here. Are they behind this?


I slice a half dozen apples, mix them with raspberries, a bit of brown sugar, cinnamon. I top them with an oat crumble and slip it all in the oven.






And now all the foods are starting to come together. Everyone is here, happy, hungry...






Out comes the turkey, The mushroom gravy gets a final stir, the scalloped potatoes have come back from Ed's sheep shed. The beans are ready, the chipotle corn is almost done.






Oh, but can I pull it all together? Carved bird and all?

Done!





Yes, this girl who rarely eats meat, devours the drumstick!






And finally, dessert. with whipped cream giggles...






We eat, we play, eventually the young family leaves.

Such a day!

I do hope your Thanksgiving was full of laughter and kindness. Stay strong, stay cheerful. And remember those you love. Always.

Wednesday before Thanksgiving

Among the countless "Black Friday" emails that popped into my box this morning (did you know that Black Friday starts on Wednesday? Try explaining that to a child who thinks she has mastered the days of the week..) -- one email stood out. It was from Yves Rocher -- a French company that sells affordable creams and cosmetics in countless stores across France and, more recently in more distant places, including Warsaw. The email came because on a wintry day in Poland, I had been passing the store and realized that I badly needed a skin cream. Cold weather is brutal to your epidermis. Sure, we have plenty of good Polish creams, but I didn't know them, didn't want to study them, I just wanted to enter, pick up something familiar and leave. Ever since that day, I get monthly emails in Polish announcing the magnificence of Yves Rocher products in their store.

But today's email was different. It's goal was to let you know, in Polish of course, that Black Friday (those two words appeared in English, in this Polish texted message, sent from this French store) starts now!

I had to laugh. What does this mean to the targeted Polish audience?? What doomsday prophecy is being conveyed? Why Black and why Friday and why today and why in English??

So maybe I was wrong when I wrote yesterday that Thanksgiving is an unfamiliar holiday to the Poles. Maybe slowly this holiday is entering the mainstream even in Warsaw. Thanksgiving -- portending the arrival of Black Friday -- when you are to shop until you drop dead. Hence the reference to this Friday's darkness.

But shopping is not on my Wednesday list. I start with pouring hot water over the iced over bowls we leave out for the cheepers. I have some bread in my pocket. They know I'm here to share...







Then I sit down to prioritize my cooking goals.

Done. I'm ready for breakfast. A very sunny breakfast.







And then the usual happens. I scale down on my cooking today. Yes, I could make life easier for myself tomorrow, but I ask myself --  do I really want to bake the dessert, the muffins, the breakfast cake -- all a day in advance? I love the "fresh from the oven" idea, even if said items (and other oven-needy foods) require different oven settings and of course produce aromas that don't necessarily mesh. I mean, you just cant bake a turkey and apple berry crisp at the same moment!

And so I try to work on stuff that you really can do in advance and no one will be the wiser. Splaying (pulling apart the turkey's legs) and then massaging the bird with herbs, garlic, lemon...






And making turkey stock for the gravy: boiling the necks and giblets for hours -- a great task for today!

And of course, cooking up our own Wisconsin cranberries:





And now what? Everything else is special only because it's fresh and honest. Okay, I can cut up that squash (standing next to the cranberries) for the soup today. But that's it!

Everything else is fitted into a carefully calibrated timeline for tomorrow. If I get up very early (here we go again!) and I work slowly but consistently (no pauses!), we should eat dinner by... Oh! I better not predict that one! The wise cook never sets expectations. It's an organic process. We will eat when the meals are ready!

Tuesday before Thanksgiving

For the first twenty-two years of my life, I did nothing for Thanksgiving. Indeed, I didn't do Thanksgiving. Polish people don't quite get the holiday. They've taken on bits and pieces of an American Halloween and Valentine's Day, but they leave this one alone.

And then boom! I entered my new American family and Thanksgiving was born. Perhaps to make up for lost time, I gave this holiday every bit of my effort. I know there are complicated discussions now about the origins of Thanksgiving, but it remains the case, I think, that the celebration that occurs in nearly every American household is a good one: Thanksgiving allows us to take time off to be with people we love (or at least like -- I've heard of tricky familial situations!). Over a meal. Nothing more than that.

I've done close to forty Thanksgivings in my life. The whole deal. Our Thanksgiving Day has had three fresh and honest meals -- a caky breakfast, a soupy lunch and then boom! Dinner!

All of my Thanksgivings have always had both daughters present (except for the couple of times when they have had no daughters present). But this year, my younger girl and her husband are visiting his parents and so Ed and I have just the young family with us. Well now, that still calls for a full Thanksgiving cooking extravaganza!

How does a Thanksgiving week look for you? For me, it follows a pattern:

Saturday begins the menu preparation and the listing of ingredients. This is the tough part. Decisions! Uff! At the end of the day I throw up my hands and am ready to declare that we shall be eating Subway sandwiches on Thursday.

Sunday is farmhouse cleaning time and a return to menu planning. At the end of the day, all is in place.

Monday is my rest day. The menu planning wiped me out.

Tuesday -- today -- is the shopping day. I'll come back to this in a bit.

Wednesday used to be my shopping day, but that was at a time when I was much younger and much more insane. I believed I could get it all prepped and cooked in a day and a half.  Now, I prefer not to succumb to the mad adrenaline rush, the long night, the frantic juggling of many preparations at once. Too much like my years working in a restaurant.  Forget it. I prefer a Zen-like calm. Wednesday, therefore, has to be a full blown cooking day. (The young family helps by taking on Snowdrop care. For me, the day has to be all about food.)

Thursday, well, it's THE day. Success is measured by when dinner is finally served. The goal is early. History has variously treated that goal.

Friday is blessed leftovers day.

Post Thanksgiving Saturday is for reflection.

Post Thanksgiving Sunday -- I'm onto other things by then.

And so now you know: if it's Tuesday, it must be shopping day. Immediately after breakfast.





I proceed carefully, slowly and with a bit of a choke in my throat. After all, I've done this so many times before! The bird, the cranberries, the bundles of herbs -- these are Thanksgiving items!

Today is only the second craziest grocery shopping day of the year and so the shelves are stocked and everyone is trying very hard to be super friendly and forgiving. Oh, no, that was my fault! Yes yes, she was before me! Please, you take that! Lovely.  May we carry this attitude with us all year long.

I return to the farmhouse, Ed carries in the loaded bags and I apply all my ingenuity to fitting everything into our fridge.

Then I head out to pick up Snowdrop.

She hasn't napped, but she is one delightful child!





Since it is her teacher's last day today, I ask for a photo. The little guy to the left is Snowdrop's pal -- he wants to be included. Why not!






When we are ready to leave, she asks for time at the playground. This is a tough call. The temps have been dropping all day long and it is now right around freezing. With a hefty wind. I try to satisfy her with a few minutes in her school yard.







Not enough. Since I have to pick up our CSA spinach share, I suggest that she and I pop over to see if the polar bears at the zoo are happy, what with the cold weather we've had this month. (The zoo is a block away from my CSA pick up place.)

Snowdrop is apprehensive. Zoo? All those fierce animals? Grandma, I only like the animals that are behind glass. I'm a little scared of the others. Can we go to the playground?

I smile at that. The girl loves her playground. Who am I to stand in her way...















I thought that the park by the zoo would be less windy than our usual playground by the lesser lake. Not so. It is cold! After a short while, she is ready to head for the farmhouse.

Puzzles with words! (She'll take any kind of puzzles. Seriously, the girl loves puzzles!)











Oh oh. She has discovered my Moroccan cookies! She does not hesitate to steal one. And then another...






We're playing school. Recess time. Grandma, someone has put mud there. You can't go there.






These make believe games are never serious and sure enough, she collapses into bouts of hilarity.





She cannot contain herself.

That is the best way a grandma can hand over her charge to the parents when they come to pick up their girl -- a girl dissolved in giggles.

And now I must focus on food. Tomorrow, it's all about food. Every waking minute. Yeah!

heat wave?

... and if we are ever to do any more work outside, it should be today, because really, it's going to climb, climb to the upper 40sF (maybe 9 or even 10C) and we'll never see such warmth again, or at least not until spring, so today we have to do everything, everything! Mow lawn, trim off garden, pick up a million lotus seed pods, all of it! This morning!

(This over breakfast...)





And I am in part correct. Today, it is at least a dozen degrees warmer than any day last week. But the wind!

Still, we head out.

Cheepers follow.






And we work. We do nearly all of it.

We're set for winter.






And then I pick up Snowdrop.

Because it is very windy, I am reluctant to take her to the park by the lake. The gusts are always at least three times as forceful there.

No problem! She is delighted to swing in her school playground for a while...





And if she chooses the school playground, her buddy (who happens to leave at the same time) is sure to follow.

(In this photo, there is this joke between them about cats rubbing chins... I suppose you had to be 2 or 3 years old to appreciate the hilarity of it.)






When her pal leaves, she settles into baking birthday cakes in the sand play area. Here, she is waiting for one to be ready.





I think she'd be there still, baking cakes, waiting, baking the next one and the one after had I not prodded her to call it quits.


We pull up to the farmette. Ed is raking debris in the courtyard. Oh, Snowdrop cannot say no to that! She herself doesn't like to use the rake, but she works the broom to the max!






The two of them go at it...






... until I remind her that there's stuff to do inside.






For example, there is this wee little keyboard...

Predictably, she loves "playing" it.






And she especially loves positioning Ed by the xylophone and having me bring out the guitar. We are a band! A musically challenged band perhaps, but what we lack in skill, we make up with enthusiasm!






(Pause for putting her babies to sleep upstairs.)





And then we draw, color and scribble until her parents come to pick her up.

Tomorrow, the theme of foods takes over. If you have a very low interest in how people go nuts over preparing a meal (or two or three) for this coming Thursday, take an Ocean pause for three days because I assure you, food thoughts and ideas will dominate for now. It's inevitable.

Sunday

We continue to be many degrees below normal. Plenty of sunshine, but cold. Just a tiny, wobbly step above freezing.

After a thorough farmhouse cleaning, Ed and I sit down to breakfast and review our options.





The grass needs to be cut. Not so much because we are looking for that perfect grass length, but because the maples have shed their leaves and if we do not either rake (how tedious!) or mow (shredding the leaves to smithereens), the grass will not survive, come springtime.

Ed goes out to start the tractor-mower. What a surprise -- it's dead. I turn to baking cookies.

(The ingredients are a giveaway, no? Moroccan semolina almond lemon cookies.)





(Ready to bake!)





(baked!)






(Ready to eat!)






Ed has been volunteering his labor at a maker space downtown (it's where people come together to build stuff) and he goes off to work there. I have only one requirement for the both of us this afternoon: that we take a walk. Somewhere.

But where?

We live near a city rich with urban parks. This one, by Lake Menona, offers a number of trails.






Some of them take you down to the star attraction here -- the lake. With, of course -- the view.






The lake isn't anywhere near frozen yet, but there are signs of winter. Look! Thick icicles dangling from a fallen limb...






If you want proof of our current winter madness, you need only cast a glance at the shoreline here...






Still, there's a hazy sun and a lovely path that beckons. We feel energized!





It's one of those rare Sundays where the parents of Snowdrop have evening work obligations and so the young family is not with us for dinner. Ed suggests we buy a Subway sandwich and split it for our evening meal.

Perhaps I should have nodded a yes to that. I am right in the thick of planning the Thanksgiving meal. But I could not do it. On a late fall Sunday, the smell of food baking, cooking, percolating is heavenly! Chicken in garlic, olive oil, lemon and rosemary... Potatoes roasted at the side... a veggie, a salad... This is what makes a Sunday evening special.

The crazy busy week begins tomorrow. Tonight, the farmhouse is quiet. Peaceful. Getting ready for what's ahead.

Saturday

Remember the ad about how you can "let your fingers do the walking through the Yellow Pages?" No need to go from store to store in search of just the right sweater for your sweetie. Call first! Spare yourself the bother of shopping. Or at least searching. Use the phone book's Yellow Pages!

Ha! What an old fashioned concept!

Or is it?

Several weeks ago, I was telling Snowdrop's teacher (the same one that is leaving to teach in Egypt) that I had purchased something online for the little girl and it didn't fit. She thought for a while, then said -- you know, I don't think I have ever bought anything online.

That gave me pause.

I would say that apart from grocery shopping, 90% of my buying is with the help of the internet. Sure, I don't have stores within walking distance. Would it be different if I didn't live in the country?

Shopping in Wisconsin at this time of the year is not pleasant. The stores are full of very grumpy people (I did not bother detailing on Ocean my encounters with unhappy shoppers during last week's purchase of a new computer -- so much angst, so little patience!). And then there is the weather...

This morning, for example, we woke up to the first (wet, but very real) snow outside.






Even the birds were surprised.






Oh, sure, it melted quickly enough...






But man oh man, it felt cold! And dark enough that we ate breakfast with lamps glowing.






(The chickens took it in stride.)





And so Ed and I proceeded to snuggle in comfortable reclining positions in the living room. He worked, I shopped. Online, checking off holiday gift after gift, indeed -- letting my fingers do the walking.


There was a welcome break. Right around noon, I was to meet the young couple and my daughter's super awesome visiting college friend (and various important to this group others) for brunch downtown.

I adore my daughters' friends and especially the ones who have been part of the fabric of their lives for the past decade, or even more. In my experience, these young people are engaged. They haven't given up on the world -- they still have passion for it. Too, they're funny. As are my girls and their husbands: they share a take on life that is uniquely different from ours. And I love it!







There is beauty to this day for sure. At brunch. But too, spending that quiet afternoon afterwards at the farmhouse: Ed is clicking away on his machine, I'm clicking away on mine. It's warm inside. At some later hour he says -- look outside! The sky is so pretty!  And I say -- let's order sushi for dinner. And we do. And it is so delicious! I throw out some words about how good this day is. Ed responds with his usual "alright, gorgeous." I smile. Secretly, he does too.