If I were to write down what I contributed to the Thanksgiving feast, it would pale in comparison to everything Older Daughter and John did. Yet I got my house ready, found places for coats, organized seats for 19 people, tried to make refrigerator space and room on the counters, greeted people, located various items for OD, fed a newborn, chased toddlers, entertained OD’s father-in-law, and I could go on and on. Was hosting something that I would want to do again? Absolutely not. Yet I was truly grateful that we could all get together and have a delicious meal; everyone got along well, and my house looked festive. Of course, I kept thinking about Mom and how much she would have LOVED the conversations and the laughter; even the little boys dashing around wouldn’t have bothered her. She would’ve been proud that her family was sitting in her living room chairs and eating at her dining room table, complete with both leaves. Note: Putting them in is no picnic and is a two-person job!
This photo doesn’t include the kitchen table and high chair for Anders. It was definitely cozy but didn’t seem crowded since the family room and entry way were clear. However, it was a LOT of “peopling,” following a breakfast at John’s younger daughter’s place with a different set of relatives. I’m a schmoozer, but John was exhausted by the end of the day. It didn’t help that he was getting a cold and was also dealing with his sister, back in the hospital with lower lobe pneumonia. She’s definitely become a frequent flier. 🙁
OD’s in-laws were visiting from Iowa; it was so delightful to see them. Lynn (at the end) is one of the nicest people on the planet; her husband Ron (next to John) is quite a character. My SIL is the woman in orange, and you all know John (with much needed beer) and sweet Obro!
Older Daughter promised me she wouldn’t go overboard and then made a surprise salad, when I had already signed up for that, insisted on making this turkey charcuterie board and brought a pumpkin cheesecake to go along with our multitude of other desserts. She just can’t help herself. 😬
See what I mean? I decided on a thin sliver of pecan with whipped cream and a hunk of Dutch apple pie with vanilla ice cream. There were too many choices!
I tried for a photo of three of my grandsons and this is what I got. Anders is trying to escape, Sharky is smiling and Obro is picking his nose. Sigh.
And after that photo failure, they decided to “swim” across my hardwood entry. LOL You just have to laugh, right?
My daughters wanted to surprise me with pictures with their sons; every photo was uniquely strange with one or more of the kids doing something unusual. Perhaps that’s the magic of family photos?
As for Ian, look at his adorably tiny baby foot! Several of us fought over holding him; the clear winners were my sister-in-law and brother. I would have been more in the running, but the host can’t just sit around snuggling a cute infant. Wahhh!
And Mari? Before I closed her up in her Cat Condo (which she thinks of as Cat Jail), she wasn’t enjoying the holiday.
We had a laugh over my sister-in-law and son-in-law twinning.
My baby brother and sister-in-law’s house remodel should be finished sometime next month, although probably not for Christmas. So, yes, I’ll be hosting again, but for Xmas Eve with fewer people and a much simpler menu. I can’t imagine having no kitchen for months like they’ve dealt with; I may not be much of a cook, but I couldn’t stand that!
Today I moved on to the next holiday, after raking, taking a walk and doing some cleaning. I’ve finished all my minimalist decorations except the tree…which I may be doing on my own due to John’s cold. The past few years he’s spoiled me by helping me transport it, put it in the stand, string the lights and arrange the train around the bottom.
I need to remind myself that for a long time before John I managed the tree by myself, although not well and not without tears and swearing. Unlike many people, I’m not into Xmas trees and wouldn’t mind not having one. However, I would hate to disappoint my Littles.
That’s my excuse anyway!
Leave a Reply to Betty RenfroeCancel reply