This year we stayed home for Thanksgiving. No travel plans, no invitation to join family, no heading off to see a movie and eat Chinese. Just stayed at home.
I grilled chicken soaked in Bob Gibson's white sauce and our own pepper sauce. I made cranberry sauce from fresh berries and stood in the kitchen in the quiet while the kids were still asleep and Matt was out trying to get some wood to get us through tomorrow (we can't get any delivered until Saturday) and listened to the berries pop as they boiled. I made mac and cheese, mixed greens and hot rolls. I made 2 gallons of sweet tea and a big pan of yams that I topped with a thick layer of my super yummy spiced marshmallows. They melted and sealed back over after every dip of the spoon, we called it 'Wolverineserol' because it was self-healing. I forgot to get stuffing for Chan and I had the wrong kind of milk to make Jake's pumpkin pie, but I don't think it was noticed. We ate on a folding table in the living room because the kitchen is just way too cold. As soon as the table was cleared, I did dishes and cleaned up and fed the dogs yummy tidbits while Matt and the kids started a game of Life, then I toddled off to soak in the bath and read another police novel set in Denmark. Not a bad day.
