Thanks Thanks Thanks

If our entire family gets together--that is, my parents, siblings, spouses, and descendants--we currently number thirty. This year we had twenty eight at the Thanksgiving celebration. That's a lot to be thankful for. Here are my parents with all the grandchildren, their spouses, and the five great grandchildren.

Here are two of the youngest generation, marveling over two of Grandpa's amazing pumpkins. His two vines produced at least a dozen of these. I asked him if all the pumpkins were this big and he said, "Well, no, but the bigger ones wouldn't fit into the trunk." My mom said, "Well there's the explanation of your shoulder problem, right there!"

 This is the most anticipated table, of course, desserts that are normally forbidden for those of us on diets. Today was a free day. I overindulged until they were gone...and that includes a day of eating leftovers. Fortunately I had a little help, or I would have eaten myself into a sugar coma.

Here's my dad with Mim and Seansy.

Cousins

Are you beginning to see a common theme here?

Well, there were other people here, of course, and other food besides dessert. Really good food, actually-- turkey, ham, dressing, gravy, veggies, potatoes, yams, corn, beans, snacky stuff, well...all the normal foods we enjoy.

Still, this was the most popular table, I'd say.

These are Hazel's delectable cream puffs, and a little corner of the most delicious chocolate cake in the world. I should know. I didn't let a crumb be wasted.

And here are a few random shots I threw in to make people say, "Oh why did you have to put that one in for everyone to see?"

I guess I can do that because I sure didn't take any pictures of myself.

When I look at this picture my heart overflows with gratitude.
These generations that flank my own--they are such a blessing to me.
Words aren't enough. I could cut and paste thanks for a year, and not express it.
Thanks, God. Thanks. Thanks. Thanks.

Still in the Game

Here are some clips of my dad, playing tennis with his son-in-law and his grandsons on Thanksgiving Day. They didn't exactly tear up the court out there, but, since my dad is almost 83 years old, I was just thankful that it was possible at all.

My dad is a pretty awesome guy, and I'm sure, having inherited his genetic qualities, I'll be out on the court myself when I'm a great-grandmother.
Oh wait.
I've never played tennis.
Well, I'll probably be reading up a storm, tearing up the library.
Just you wait and see.





Sunday Scribblings--Games

Early in the Morning

They are sleeping.
All over the house.
Beds are full...and so are all the couches.
I'm sitting quietly in the dark...in the den...typing as softly as I can.
Schnetka are in the oven...on warm...bubbling quietly.
I went to bed before ten...after calling my parents to make sure they made it safely home.
It's a thing with me.
I don't know how late they all stayed up, but I remember hearing the saxophone playing before I turned on the overhead fan/ambient noise and faded away.
Well, in my defense, I had been up since five, so I could put the turkey and ham into the oven hours before I needed to and make sure they almost burned. Fortunately, the only thing that burned was the pan of honey glazed carrots and, as I said at the time, if you are going to burn anything on Thanksgiving Day, it might as well be carrots.
Almost all the family was here--we were just missing seven--those North Carolina people and the Chicago five. So the twenty one of us played games and took pictures and just enjoyed the time together...not to mention all the pies and cheesecakes and chocolate and snickerdoodles.
It was lovely--the weather crisp and cool, the leaves crunchy.
Thanks, God, for such a peaceful time in our small pocket of the world.
Happy Thanksgiving!