Thanksgiving Day

An early start. Must let pecan rolls rise before baking. Caramelize the carrots for the egg frittata. Gray skies outside, warm smells inside. I nudge Ed: we've cornered an opossum and a mouse -- both need to be set free... elsewhere.

Rolls come out of the oven, the first young couple, traveling from Chicago, arrives.






Soon after -- Snowdrop and her parents are here. The little girl, excited to see her aunt, brings her gifts of all her favorite stuffies.






We eat informally, taking this moment to just sit back.






But afterwards, the day rolls forward at top speed. Lunch foods must be prepped first: squash soup with herbed goat cheese dumplings. Aprons on. You too, Snowdrop? Okay!






"How can I help?"






Shouldn't we give the chickens some Thanksgiving treats?






Back inside. Mommy reads.






What's that banging noise? Gaga is pounding, then rolling out the pie crust. Snowdrop helps.






Hard work. Snowdrop takes a break.






My daughter and I continue. She whips up the sage stuffing. Done!






"Is it time for Thanksgiving dinner yet?"






No no. Snowdrop. Lunch first!






"Daddy, will you fix my slipper?"






My younger daughter studies the dinner menu.
Ambitious! Do you have a schedule? -- she asks.
Sort of. In my head. More or less.
Let's get organized!
She creates a timeline.






After that it's just a question of who does what, when. Slowly the dishes fall into place: spicy roasted carrots and roasted beets for pre-dinner munching.






The turkey, of course. Herbed, then splayed, so that it cooks evenly. Mushroom gravy. Stuffing. Oh -- that's done already! Cheesy hassleback potato gratin. Pumpkin cornbread. Brussel sprouts with roasted hazelnuts. Corn with chipotles. But really, we must get those desserts out of the way. The pumpkin cheesecake with whisky pecan sauce is done. Let's finish the honey and thyme apple pie.






"It feels like I've been chopping herbs for a very long time."






Studying a family album...






Working those potatoes...






Two sisters standing over two pots.


 



The bird is ready!






Thanksgiving dinner.






A tired little girl (still fighting one bug or another).






... Revives for pumpkin cheesecake.






... And for a spirited game of "who can jump higher."





A beautiful day. It comes, it ends, but the warm glow lasts forever.

I hope you had a very wonderful day as well. With love.

Wednesday, Thanksgiving week

Everything that happens on Thanksgiving is set by how you approach the day before it.

I try to focus on this small truth as I get up at dawn to open the coop for the cheepers. I have a strong tug to bed afterwards: go back under cover, warm up, it'll get done, it'll get done.

But I know better. I need to fire the engines!

I start with farmhouse cleaning.

Followed by breakfast.






And then I have a quick errand to do at the store and I hear that Snowdrop is anxious to come shopping too, so we set out: the girl, her mom and me. Four photos that I think illustrate why the girl loves a shopping adventure:

(orange slices!)






(shrimp!!)






gaga, did you drop your (short) shopping list??






I love it all!






The three of us come back to the farmhouse. It's a wet day, but Snowdrop wants a quick run outside.






Indoors now. Lunch first. Sushi! My, but does Snowdrop love sushi!


 



She plays, her mom keeps an eye on things, I bake.






Pumpkin cheesecake with a pecan crust.






Then the nutty cinnamon rolls for breakfast.






And the cornbread -- I have to do that tonight as well!

Done! Snowdrop and her mom go home. I may or may not get to the apple pie crust tonight. But I'm doing well! I'm not completely behind and overwhelmed! I am in control!

The air is damp, the lights twinkle.






What a beautiful week it is!

Tuesday, Thanksgiving week

Well, I need to get serious here! I have the lists, the menus, the tasks enumerated. A total of four meals to prepare, by far, of course, the biggest and boldest (in a modest sort of way) being Thanksgiving dinner.

So get moving, already!

And I do just that. Ed, who stayed up half the night working, sleeps in and I don't even bother suggesting he come down for breakfast. I want to get going! First stop is to be the beer and wine store and they open at 9. I plan on being there as the doors swing open.

Breakfast, therefore, is by myself. In the sun room. Even though there isn't a trace of sun outside. Still, I like the colors in this room now: the Christmas cactus, a gift from Ed from maybe ten years back, is reliably blooming for the wrong holiday (Thanksgiving)!






And then I shop.

I am an absolute idiot when it comes to craft beers and all my children and their spouses have preferences and I cannot keep any of them straight. You mean an IPA is not the same as an ale? Are all ales pilsners? Are sours typically fruit based? Belgian? Something else? This is the most difficult part of the shopping for me and I must admit to calling both daughters twice from the store to make sure I got it right.

For me -- oh, that's easy! Maybe a Sancerre rose, or a Chablis Grand Cru? From old vines? Mmmm, the possibilities! Even though once again, I'll be mostly on my own in the wine department. Honestly, you try to raise the kids right and they turn their sweet little noses on the beautiful wines of this world!

At the grocery store, it's getting crowded, but not so much that you can't push your cart through (that will be tomorrow). My list is beautifully organized (normally, I never shop from a list -- I exercise my memory by keeping it all in my head, but this time I cannot afford to miss something... like the turkey, which I've written in bold letters). And still it takes me 90 minutes to shop! (I allow myself a happy tear as I pick up a can of pumpkin puree: it's so holiday-ish!)

And so now I hurry because it all must be carted home and unpacked before I pick up Snowdrop.


I'm on time!






When Snowdrop and I arrive at the farmette, she remembers yesterday's fire and asks about it, but I tell her it's just not a good day for it. And in fact, she's happy to trudge inside. It's not great outdoor play weather.

At the farmhouse, she moves quickly to her Duplo blocks (the junior Lego stuff). The girl is all about making things tall these days (with a pause for a beloved baguette).






She'll build towers with anything. Indeed, after her Lego play, she drags out her baby blocks...






... and gets going on them as well.






Stay there!






No? That's okay: she'll try again. Until she gets it right.






In the afternoon, she switches her focus. This is her other love: dealing with the one infant character in the Duplo set. She is more focused on this one wee piece of plastic baby than on any other character in any of her play sets.






As for reading books -- her book choices are expanding every day and Ed has admonished me for not going to the library to fill her bookshelves from there. I tell him I love to own favorite books. But of course, he's right. You can own a story without owning the pages on which it appears.

He is also correct in that lately, I've been spending too much on books for Snowdrop. I think it's because I'm so shocked at how much less they cost now as compared to when my own girls were young. Back then, trips to the bookstore were such a special treat! And when I couldn't resist, when I purchased a stack for them, I'd sweat about it for a long time afterwards. These days, books are easy to find, easy to acquire with a click of the keyboard and for most of us, when purchased just every now and then, they don't break a budget.

Today, I gave her the book about a moose eating a cupcake. In a million ways it's beyond her, but here's an interesting thing about children: sometimes they just rise to something in the story line...






She must have had the two of us read the moose book to her a dozen times!


Evening now. Snowdrop is playing nicely by herself, but she also pays attention to what Ed and I are doing. She stands tentatively by the couch, understanding that Ed is lost in some computer search. She seems disappointed. I explain to her -- ahah is looking for a pair of shoes.

She lights up. This is stuff she can weigh in on! She climbs up onto the couch, studies the screen and makes her preferences known.





Did he go with her choice? I don't know. I'll guess yes, but only if it was the cheapest one of the available options.

Late, very late I roast pecans and then hazelnuts. I'm making progress!

Monday, Thanksgiving week

I tried to put myself in the mind set of "doing ahead" for the Thanksgiving meal.  Cake can be done two days in advance? I'll do it! Squash peeled day before? I'm on it!

But in the end, I'm not on it at all. Instead, I spend a good thirty minutes in the morning studying oven thermometers on Amazon, rejecting them all in the end and accomplishing in that time nothing.

Well, that's okay! It's only Monday!

A sunny and cold day. Perfect for a breakfast in the sun room.






I go out to inspect what needs to be done in the yard (not today, just in the near future) and then Ed joins me and we fall to work and clear the yard of the thousands of seed pots. We didn't intend to do that, we just fell into the rhythm of work. And it is a lovely (if cold) day for it.






But what to do with the piles and piles of seed pods? Our compost heaps -- all four of them -- are brimming with yard and kitchen waste. There isn't room for huge additions!

I have an idea: I'll pick up Snowdrop from school (so far so good!)...






... and we'll do a bonfire of seed pods at the farmette!

Ed's agreeable. There isn't much of a breeze. It's a safe day to burn the yard waste that just can't be mulched down.

I wonder how Snowdrop will react to a bonfire: to my knowledge, she has never seen one. Perhaps never even read about one.



We're home! Ed comes out and lights the pile of pods, mixed with dried leaves. Snowdrop's reaction? Just watch:





She wants none of it. At first. It's just too off the wall crazy, no? The snap and crackle of it -- so beautiful to my ears, filled with images of youthful campfires in Poland -- they just seem utterly strange.

But... ah-ah is there. And I'm smiling and admiring its beauty, and slowly, she takes another look.






Realizing that we raked stuff into the blaze, she insists on being part of the team. Here she is, asking Ed -- ah-ah, Snowdrop helps rake? Ah-ah needs help?






Sure, little girl. You sit here and keep an eye on things.
And she does. Fascinated.






For a long while.

Then, for a few more minutes, from another safe vantage point...






Yeah! She has mastered another new experience. She is a happy little girl!






The cheepers take note.

I think the fire discombobulates them somewhat because for no reason, they start a fight. (Henny is always a victim, but this time, so is Java.) Usually, I let them work it out, but today I am annoyed at their bullying tactics. I chase the culprits around a bit just to get them off their pedestal. Ed says I'm disrupting the ways of the hens. I roll my eyes.

The girls settle down in (temporary) harmony.






Snowdrop has a few minutes of quiet play indoors...





... and then she naps.


... Only to wake up to great energy and exuberance. Play in ah-ah and gaga's room!






Bring bagel to ah ah and gaga's room! Eat it! Have gaga take photo in the mirror there!






Of course, her exuberance is shared by all of us.






Now, tomorrow is crucial: I make progress on the Thanksgiving meal or we sink! I'm betting on progress. Always!