Nov 24 2018
Thanksgiving
Rain finally made its welcome appearance. When I drove to work the day before Thanksgiving, the Ridge was littered with red needles glowing against the mirror black road in the light of the high beams. I was glad I had replaced my wiper blades.
The office had a ghost town quality that day. I got some filing done, though not all of it. And even though I was not hosting Thanksgiving for once, I left work a little early anyway.
It was still raining as I made my way to Rio’s house on Thanksgiving evening, literally going over the (Albion) river and through the woods to Rio’s house (and she is, in fact, a grandmother). According to the local message boards, we have received about 2.5 inches over the past three days. That’s something to be thankful for, as is finding two errors on the same page in a recent issue of “The New Yorker”. My petty little heart rejoiced.
Arriving at Rio’s house, I met her son, his wife, and their son. Rio has picked up our reproductive slack by having four children and three grandchildren. Erica and Jessica arrived shortly after I did, with tales of packing and moving misdaventures. I think I would have given up on the whole thing, but they are made of stronger stuff, and as of tomorrow, they will be on their way to their new home. I am having a hard time coming to terms with this. My heart is an even slower learner than my head.
Dinner was well in hand: organic turkey, gravy, potatoes, carrots, and delicata squash from the garden. Dessert was wild huckleberry tarts and pie from our own apples. Needles to say, it was all accompanied by the cider we just pressed a few days ago. It’s satisfying to have a mostly home-grown Thanksgiving.
I am pleased to say that I did not burst into tears when saying goodbye to Erica and Jessica. I did hug them a little longer than usual, though, and I already miss them.
A YEAR AGO: Getting ready for Thanksgiving.
FIVE YEARS AGO: Some little treats to brighten up the day.
TEN YEARS AGO: My beautiful girls. I will never stop missing the incredible June.