the last of the holiday weekend

I was up extremely early today. Not because I couldn't sleep, not because I had loads to do, but because Ed came up from his all-nighter downstairs and I chose this moments to discuss with him the choices we make in our charitable giving. This is a minefield of a topic for us because he and I are so different in the way we approach it and in the way we imagine who and what needs help from those who make charitable donations, however big or small, at this time of the year. It's no surprise of course that he and I aren't on the same platform here: choosing who to help reflects your core beliefs, your ideas of where we are heading and of course, most of you know that Ed and I are very different in our life choices. What I learned from living with someone who is not at all like me is that in everyday matters, little of this comes up. I imagine it would be like a staunch Republican living with a solid Democrat right now: how you go through the day is not going to be impacted much by your politics. But every once in a while, like in our case this morning, the belief systems (which, just so you know, have little to do with politics) clash and the noise is ear-piercingly loud. Not an argument so much (because -- what's there to argue about? he is who he is, I am who I am, we both know that), but a thunderous divergence of views that gets aired at a weird time. Like by me at 5 a.m. this morning.

And then we return to our regularly scheduled day. Happy and whole once again.

For me, the regularly scheduled day is actually not very regular at all: it's amazing and wonderful and different. The young family from Chicago is in town still and this morning they are at the farmhouse, joined later in the morning by the five who live just 15 minutes up the roads from me.

Things don't change much at the farmhouse: the toys may be updated a tiny bit every now and then, but not a whole lot. Most of it stays the same, waiting for the next grandchild to grow into it. This means that when the kids come here, when their parents come here, everyone knows where everything is. The kids go off to the play room or the art room, the parents gather at the kitchen table, or in the living room, or on the playroom floor -- we've done it all a million times and that comfort of knowing what's what makes for a pretty easy set of hours, even with the littlest guys.

(Primrose notices that there's a fence and a gate in the playroom. This is totally to keep Sandpiper safe. On one side are toys with which he can let loose and do what he wants. On the other -- small stuff, fragile stuff, more precious stuff.)

Hey, Juniper!

How does it feel to be almost one?

(Grandma time..)

(the older girls...)

I was told not to fuss with brunch, so I ordered a box of croissants from Madison Sourdough, cut up loads of fruits, put out some leftover Thanksgiving apple cake and Clasen's baguette, found a hunk of four year cheddar cheese,  baked up some bacon, sautéed some mushrooms, and of course, scrambled some cheeper eggs.

The table just fits eleven if I set things right. 

(Making Juniper laugh...)

We eat, and then we let the kids play while we drift into that wonderful conversation that hits both funny events from the last months and, too, speculations about the future. I mostly love to listen to them, with an occasional question maybe, but really I just suck in the sweetness of the moment where I would change nothing at all. It's all that good.

(Kids, in the art room...)

(Sandpiper goes back for some more blueberries. The boy loves blueberries!)

We are lucky. We all survived the pandemic. Sure, Covid hit both young families in many, many ways (not the least is that they all had it in their households), but here we are, gathered, with old Ed and old me and if you ignore the occasional sneezes and runny noses, we are all so very fine!

(last play of the day: each older kid is "at work;" Juniper so wants to join in...)

And then the afternoon is winding down and they leave and the house is so... empty. But not for long. We may be done with the holiday weekend, but we'll all be together soon enough for the next series of celebrations.

For now, I attend to my own Christmas tree. While I tidy up,  Ed saws off the knotty stump, and then I spend a solid hour decorating it. It used to be small. Now it's... medium!

I have music in the background and images of the happy little ones and older ones from this weekend. My beloved young families: how hard they work, how beautifully they play, all of them!

(the two that started it all...)

In the evening, Ed and I eat Thanksgiving leftovers. He has said repeatedly that this was the best turkey he  has ever eaten, which sounds awfully much like a suck up comment, though honestly, since I've roasted more than a dozen Thanksgiving turkeys for him over the last years, he's comparing this to all my other good efforts to get a perfect bird to the table. It's just that this year, between the turkey itself and the method of preparation, we seem to have hit gold. 

The air is turning cold again. No matter. Tis the season. We are ready for it.

With so much love...

the holiday weekend

We're still coasting on the tails of the Thanksgiving holiday, but now with one foot into the Christmas season.  And the sun is out, and the weather is unseasonably fine, and both young families are here, and Ed is leaving behind whatever virus snagged him, and I seem to have sailed through with the mildest case, so that luck has been our partner for sure this Thanksgiving weekend. Indeed, these few days are really at the top of the heap of memorable family weekends. 

Let me run through this day using few words. Not because it's late and I'm tired (though that certainly is true), but because so much was exactly right for us today and when that happens, you feel a little humble, knowing that this wasn't the case for everyone, and, too, you lack the words to express again and again your deep gratitude for all the warmth and good feeling that comes your way when you spend extended periods of time with your kids and their families.

So, quietly, this was my beautiful day:

Morning, with the cats and cheepers.

Breakfast, still eating up Thanksgiving Day leftovers with Ed ...

And then I meet up with the two young families at Clasen's, for the gingerbread treats. (We thought, too, we'd let the kids explore the bakery's giant gingerbread house, but for some reason they're holding off on putting it up this year. "We'll have it in a couple of weeks" -- they tell us.)

(happy with the cookies)

(our youngest one was born in mid December so this is in fact her first trip to Clasen's)

("Can we please get some cake?" "Go ask your father." They do just that.)

(cookies everywhere!)

(yep -- cookies everywhere! she already has her favorites...)

For lunch, the kids beg to go to Culver's (just next door). For the burgers and chicken fingers and fries and custard. I feel that after Thanksgiving, I can well put off eating until maybe Christmas, or New Years, so I leave them there...

... and go to a local coffee shop for a nice rich espresso with milk. Then I scoot over to my daughter's house to start in on the tree. Lights need to go up. It's a tedious job and it's best done before all the young ones hit the tree trimming scene.

Okay, lights done. The young families return home, the kids have an hour of play before nap time.

And while young ones rest, grownups chat in the kitchen over food prep. We are all great cheese fans and tree trimming calls for a really special cheese tray.

Kids are up! Time to decorate the young family's tree.

Once one cousin stood on a chair to hang an ornament (the instruction was to put all the glass ones out of reach of toddler hands!), all the cousins wanted to stand on chairs. So they did.

And the band played on...

Remarkably, Sandpiper did not break an ornament until much later in the day!

Reaching the top is no easy feat on this tree!

Done!

Oh Christams tree, oh Christmas tree...

Tuckered out...

Here comes our reward for working hard: pizza!

And eventually we near bedtime for the kids. Hey little ones, do you think we could take a photo of the five of you? And because this day is pure magic, they give us their best!

I return to the farmhouse in the glow of a most beautiful day.

With so much love!

the holiday weekend

For us, Thanksgiving ushers in the beginning of an extended period of family, food, and gratitude. I wake up with thoughts on all of those.

It's a beautiful day. You'd have to be really down in the dumps not to notice that! I go out, the cheepers come running, even the hiccuping Bresse girl. They seem as happy as the cats, who also are not complaining! Really, a gorgeous end to November and a fitful ushering in of the winter holiday season.

We eat breakfast elegantly. I had for once purchased flowers that were not just grocery store additions to the cart, and I keep the tablecloth on from last night. My Polish friend Bee and I purchased it together, in Paris, on our trip there just before the pandemic and it has sweet memories of that innocent time. And for once, at dinner, we all kept our foods on our plates. No stains! Impressive, given our age range, don't you think? All this to say that breakfast warranted a timed release photo! Happy us.

I'd done a good job of tidying the kitchen late last night, but the play room remains under siege. Still, I put off tidying in favor of a bit of a rest. Too many nights without the requisite hours of solid sleep. So, couch time for me, for Ed as well. 

But toward the lunch hour, we move ourselves to go for a walk. How could we not? Stunning sunshine, the quiet of a forest -- it's all irresistible.

And now I'm back in the thick of holiday stuff. First comes the meetup with the young family at our favorite Christmas tree nursery. Time to pick out a tree for their house! And let's not forget about one for the farmhouse! I read the article in the Wash Po out loud to Ed to remind him about the environmental virtues of growing trees for holiday sales. Of all that we do for Christmas, this is perhaps the most beautiful, coming to us without the feeling of excessive indulgence. Trees, if grown sustainably, are never a bad thing, not before they make an appearance in our homes, not after we dispose of them with care.

So we buy trees.

Oops! Sandpiper is on the run! I'll get him -- this from Snowdrop.

Hey, how about this pot? Sandpiper does try to help out...

Finally. Tree selected. Doesn't quite fit into the photo frame. Hopefully it will fit into their living room.

(Admiring the ornaments inside... )

We haul the load of greens, the tree, the wreath, and yes, a few ornaments to their home. And then we get ready for a dinner out with the arriving youngest family!

We all eat at Craftsman Table and Tap. We are all so happy to see them!

Craftsman is the kind of eatery you hope to have around the corner from where you live -- reasonably priced modern pub food. A wonderful place to hang out with these two families! (Well, in truth, we could be stuck in a barrack with bread and soup delivered in thermoses and it still would be fun to hang out with these guys.)

(my beloved young families)

Ed's sleeping off the last of his period of Great Lethargy (that followed whatever bug he had last week), but he's up when I come home, and we sit back once again to an evening of farmhouse quiet. The tree will go up tomorrow. For now, we eat our chocolate, snuggle the couple of cats that always come in for an evening greeting, and smile at the sweetness of the day.

with love...

Thanksgiving

So thankful... So much love and kindness all around me, so much care and compassion... And on top of it all -- good food on the table.

Oh dear. No food on the table as of this morning. Not even close. Do people eat Thanksgiving dinner early? Yes? Hmmm.... Oh dear.

Well, let's start with a greeting to the animals great and small. In the barn.

Now, about breakfast: a quick drive to the Batch bakery for a pie and for cinnamon buns and apple cake.

At home, cut up the fruit, roast up the bacon, and we are ready.

Family comes.

Gaga, look what I made for dessert (all by herself)!

Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade is on in the background. Some watch, some play.

Quick, I have to get the herbal mayo prepped, the beans trimmed, the ginger minced, the cranberries cooked, and the muffins baked. All before lunch. Sandpiper helps. 

(I pause when Santa comes to town... along with Mrs Claus...)

The little guy is full of energy. This is when a saunter outside makes sense.

Snowdrop joins him.

Did someone say it's time for lunch? I asked my son in law to be in charge of that. And he was. I mean, he is. Uff! I'm distracted! Sandpiper, do not turn the oven on just yet!

Okay, pause for lunch...

Followed by a little bit of a quiet time. The youngest guy naps, the middle one plays, the older girl reads with mommy.

And I'm back with the dinner: let's get the turkey broth going. Where is that back bone? And the neck? A few veggies? Cook away, broth!

Next -- let's peel and slice the potatoes on  the mandolin. Not the safest gadget in the world given that I lost the safety glove, but oh well. Just watch those fingers so they dont get sliced with the spuds. 

Oops, I lose a bit of pinky and it wont stop bleeding. Many many bandages later, I continue.

What else, what else. I should prepare the root veggies. And set the table. Yes, done!

So now for the bird. Smear on the herbed mayo!

Looks kind of gross, but I trust Kenji the chef!

Is it time for a pre dinner drink yet??

Yes? Terrific! A Campari based spritzer. Yum. Pinky finger feels better already!

Bird goes in. 

Potatoes go in. But not here. They go into the little oven at the sheep shed. I only hope it's still working. No one uses it. Except for Thanksgiving overflow. Cross your fingers for these guys!

Corn. My daughter is to make the corn. I set her up for it. Away she goes!

I tackle the gravy. Have I forgotten something? I do not think so! One year I forgot the cranberries, another year -- I left a whole dish of something in the fridge. (What was that something? I forgot.) But this year, we're good!

Out comes the turkey.

It rests, I work quickly on the gravy, Ed brings back the potatoes, I finish off the beans. 

The corn's ready. The beets and carrots have roasted themselves, not needing anyone's help ever. The gravy is always a bit of a bother, but hey, that's Thanksgiving for you: it needs that extra push at the last minute.

And now to carve the bird.

And we sit down to eat.

"I love every last bit of it!"

Wait, have I forgotten the dessert? The one I did not make? Actually the two I did not make? One is from the bakery, the other contributed by Snowdrop, who then insists on cutting and serving.

And just like that, it ends. Beautifully. Around the kitchen table. On mismatched plates and with some participants choosing to use fists over forks. Still, every minute of it is beautiful.

I hope you had an exquisitely wonderful day. I hope everything went well and you felt the closeness of family, perhaps friends. The weekend is young! May your joy extend well into it, as ours will with the arrival of the youngest family tomorrow.

Happy, happy Thanksgiving days.

With love.