Thanksgiving was wonderful. Simple. Relaxing.
For the first time in 4 years I didn’t host a gathering at my home. Rather we spent the day with friends at their house.
Jake woke at 5 am to put the ham in to cook. But then he came back to bed. And hours later we enjoyed a leisurely wake up. We turned on Christmas tunes and sang along while we put the house in order.
The house stayed spic and span because the boys drug out the video games which had been packed away. (I’m happy to report they have since been repacked and put away.)
Along with the yummiest of pineapple ham, we made mashed potatoes and brownies and rice krispie treats and sweet potatoes and pistachio salad. Jake made an amazing apple pie.
Our food assignments complete, we fancied ourselves up and headed out.
We ate. And ate. And ate. We talked and laughed. We were thankful.
When it was over I realized I did not take any pictures. I had lost myself in the day.
I am not sorry. It was wonderful.
But on the way home I recorded the moment. The end of the day.
Dark and chill. Streets empty. The Big Dipper hung low in the sky.
Bodies tired. Spirits filled. A quiet ride. Knowing home is waiting.
All is well.