Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Giving thanks.

Today is the day I write my column, and that day is always Wednesday. I am celebrating Thanksgiving today, as I am working tomorrow. I just popped a pie into the oven. My free turkey from Shop-Rite has been brining for two days. I have to wrestle that out of the lobster pot it has been submerged in, and prepare it to be roasted. Not looking forward to hoisting a 20 lb bird, bloated from marinating, onto my roasting rack, but looking forward to the eating it.

 I am going to make stuffing, and mashed potatoes. I have a pumpkin pie, per Charlotte's request, in addition to the apple, and even some whip cream on top. My family usually eats red cabbage along with our Thanksgiving dinner, but I plumb forgot it, and when I realized I had, I thought no one would miss it. And I could sure use not to have such awful heartburn from it, although, it is so good.

Brussels sprouts will be our vegetable, and I roast those in the oven. My girls adore sprouts, and they literally fight over the last one. I have a whole stalk of them, so I think I have enough. My Mom and Dad are here, and tonight, we will all celebrate. A day early, but a Thanksgiving, nonetheless.

By the time this is in the paper, dinners will be downed, wine will be slurped up. Gravy will congeal, and turkey sandwiches will be on the Friday night dinner menu. (Oooh how I love them. A little mayo, and cranberry sauce together, on top of some stuffing, and of course, some turkey....yum!)

 Christmas shopping will begin. The rush of this exhausting time of year. So much to do, and buy, and plan, and consume, in just a few short weeks. It leaves me lying in bed, stressed, just thinking about it. I am still feeling relief that we pulled it off last Christmas, and here we go again. It leaves my head spinning.

But my pie is in the oven. And my Mom is getting dressed. My girls are at Besecker's diner eating probably way too much bacon with my Dad, and David is at work. My house is quiet. Almost still, and as I write this, my coffee is warm, and delicious, and I am beginning to smell apples, and cinnamon.

 I have heat. I have a roof. I have healthy children,whom I adore most days, and love me back.  I have the love of a husband that still astounds me. I don't know how we will do Christmas, yet again. I don't even know how we will do most days. But we do them. And we have them.


And for that, I give more thanks than I can express.

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