Thanks-getting...

 For the past 35 years Chris and I have hosted Thanksgiving almost every year. Some of those years we didn't have many family members around, so we ended up inviting people we knew (some we hardly knew!) who didn't have a place to go. We had some memorable holidays with diverse and fascinating people. 

Since we moved to Maine we have plenty of family nearby(ish) but we always still have a guest or two gracing our table, and that is an added happiness. Having a houseful of people for this holiday is a true joy to me, one I look forward to all year.

. I love bringing out the mismatched China dishes and silverware. I delight in plotting the menu, mapping out the grocery list and making this old house shine. 

This year sister Deb, Rachel and I all commandeered the kitchen on Wednesday and cooked all day. We made stuffing (two kinds) cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, roasted squash for a fabulous salad, pecan pies, spice cake, rum cake and eggnog pie. There was music and laughter and pleasant togetherness. It made my heart happy. Rachel worked circles around us, juggling two wee ones at the same time, we watched in awe.

Brother-in-law John kindly let us task him, "Please reach this? Could you bring in more firewood? Extra chairs from the garage? He was good natured and kind throughout. 

My creative niece Aimee volunteered to decorate the table, and I happily anticipated her inventive flair adding a whole new level of enjoyment. She didn't disappoint. Layers of greens, apples, cinnamon sticks, and lots of candles for the win.     

It looked incredible when the table was empty, but oh! it was even better when everyone gathered around to share conversation as well as lots and lots of food. There were sixteen people to feed, and Deb and I locked eyes and shared a conspiratorial smile when we listened to chatter and ripples of laughter. "This," our gaze said, "This is what it's all about."  

This humorous sign sister Donna gave me years ago greeted guests and helped remind them proper gathering etiquette. My birth family needed this sign, because many a holiday dinner was ruined with heated political debates. I don't miss those! 

Here are a few glimpses of the day. 

The dessert table was a little excessive. I like that in a dessert table. 

This turkey was the flower girl at our wedding. She was six. I still like her an awful lot. 

No one went hungry. We cooked TWENTY POUNDS of potatoes for heavens sake. Enough for plenty of leftovers. 

We may host this holiday, but we get so much more than we give. People bring contributions to the feast, cook, help make the whole experience work smoothly, wash dishes, fill the house with love and, most importantly, hand down memories to the next generation.  There were four little girls here watching us, and I hope someday they will make the effort to gather those they love the best to be thankful together. 

Over three decades of gatherings have been enjoyed around multiple tables, in various homes, with an assorted group of friends and family joining in gratitude for all we have. It is part of what has shaped us, and for that we give thanks. 

Circle...

 My great-niece turned one and was celebrated with a party today. There were balloons galore, decorative unicorns of every kind, yummy food, and lots of guests celebrating. Rachel, the grands, and I traveled to Massachusetts to join the throngs of adoring people who are so glad that Sophie is here. 

I always treasure a chance to visit my sister's place, the home I grew up in. To share it with my grands is the happiest of happy things. This morning, I watched them run down the long hall I once took my first toddling steps in, and my eyes leaked a little. My parents would have been so pleased to know their children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren joyfully gather in this home they built. 

Between helping with party prep, I took a little walk outside. I walked down to an area that was once a fenced paddock for horses. When the last horse moved on, my father ordered a bunch of tree seedlings by mail. He found the advertisement in the back of a magazine.  When they came, he sliced the box tape with a sharp pocket knife, and I opened the cardboard package and lifted out tiny sprouted trees, no longer than his finger. He let me help plant them. He shoveled the soil; I gently teased each wee tree from its companions, held it over the hole, and watched him place the dirt around the fragile roots and pat it down. It was my job to water them all one long summer. Over the first years they grew, I used to practice leaping over them, pretending I was a horse, and each small tree was a jump to traverse. 

I remembered all this as I looked at those trees. My neck tipped back and back and back. The saplings I once leapt over with ease now touch the sky. 

The newest family member turned one. The grove of trees I helped plant is sixty or so years old, and my grandchildren are making memories in the place where my life began. The circle of life is plain to me, and celebrated. 

Quadruple...

 The Owlet had a party in her honor today to celebrate four circles around the sun —well done. Sixteen kids and 14 or so of their parents came to share in the happiness. We joined her mama and papa in planning and putting together a party suitable for a child of her stature. It started mid-morning, and we served delicious locally made donuts, hot mulled cider, coffee, quiche, Swiss chard pie, hot wings, chips and salsa, mini pigs in blankets, and the happy food for kids, Goldfish crackers. 

 The Owlet said she'd like to decorate gingerbread cookies as a party activity, and that was an easy request to honor. Rachel baked 5 or so dozen yummy ginger cookies, and a sweet, sticky time was had by all. 

I got a little crafty and made a garland to go along with the idea. 

The bounce house was up, and Evans spent a lot of time and energy running around the pasture with 5 or so kids piled into a garden cart. Shrieks and giggles ensued. 

Robin Evans (2) was intrigued by the cake, but did a fantastic job restraining himself and never so much as touched that tempting sprinkle-covered ganache. 

When Rachel was a teen, our house was the "place" for her and her friends to hang out. I used to love seeing the pile of kids' shoes by the door. They'd play loud music, dance till the house shook, empty our refrigerator, and hang out for hours. I had a little flashback today. These kids were a lot smaller, louder, and less hormonal, but the pile of shoes was just as enchanting. 

Being a part of our grandchildren's lives is a gift that we never take for granted. Every time one snuggles in, reaches for our hand when walking, asks for help on the potty or a snack or to pretend we are pirates we celebrate a little. And for milestones like birthdays? We celebrate a lot.