We cooked, we moved and re-arranged furniture, we cooked some more, we drank things like hard cider and wine, we snacked on cheeses, and chutney and fruit, we had the constant drone of football on the TV, we ate some lovely food, we played constantly with Miss G, we talked, we drank some more, we watched Uncle Jeff do Frozen with Miss G, we fell asleep in various places, (except for Miss G) we ate pie and crisp and galette, we talked even more, we chose secret santa names, we watched Miss G reach her meltdown point and we said goodbye to her for the night, we talked even more, and finally we said our final goodbyes.
I started the dishwasher, put on my jammies, sat down for a few moments and decided my bed was the place I needed to be.
It was all lovely.
You get the picture from the condensed version, but it really was a good Thanksgiving for us. Of course we had more food than necessary. My husband has enough turkey to keep him happy for a few days and for the first time I actually planned side dish amounts pretty darn well so we ended up with just a little in the way of leftovers, which is more than fine with me. Plus we didn’t do all the usual, traditional foods so no heavy stuffing, gravy and sugar drenched yams are sitting in my fridge. I didn’t even have to do the turkey, that is the husband’s job anymore. He used his smoker, did a nifty spatchcock version with a slightly sweet dry rub and it turned out really well.
Miss G gorged herself on cheese and pear slices, literally spit her Brussel sprout directly down the front of her dress and ate off of everyone’s dessert plate, seeking out those especially who had sampled her momma’s vegan chocolate pie.
It took her awhile to warm up to her aunt and uncle, but when she did she found a best friend in Uncle Jeff especially, who had the stamina to run in circles through the house with her playing hide-and-seek. I loved seeing him interact with her, and speak with her in a very straightforward way, and even calmly reprimand her when needed. This isn’t a side of him that we typically get to see and of course my mind started speculating what might be in store for the future of their own family expansion—because I am a grandma and that’s what we do—anticipate more little people to carry on and bring smiles.
I also learned about Dubstep and one of the leaders of this genre, Skrillex. We started a conversation about high school reunions, especially those occurring in small rural communities close to the Idaho border made up of slightly sketchy folk with highly conservative views and agendas, and then somehow wound up discussing singing, and voice lessons, and music, and changes in musical forms, and how music, much like fashion, seems to occur in a cyclical format, and how one genre morphs into another slightly more advanced form in subsequent decades, and then ended up (to Uncle Jeff’s surprise) sharing that I not only know who Shakey Graves is, but that I (the mom) can also recognize his music, and I like his music.
In wide-eyed wonder, “YOU know Shakey Graves?”
In semi-perplexed amazement, “You LIKE Shakey Graves?”
This declaration caused an uproar because it (apparently) is impossible to like both Kenny G and Shakey Graves, two very divergent artists.
And…not one moment of shopping was had, by anyone. Nor will any occur today. We do not do Black Friday…Thursday…Wednesday…Thanksgiving week sales.
It was a very good Thanksgiving indeed.