This year we celebrated Thanksgiving in Chattanooga at my husband’s sister’s family’s house.
My husband’s brother’s family from Upstate New York also made the (grueling) trip down. So we were three families, eighteen people in all.
Our hosts knocked themselves out making us comfortable. They gave up all their bedrooms, and each family got their own bathroom. There was a hot beverage bar complete with hot chocolate mix, mini marshmallows, flavored creamers, and a steady supply of candy canes. All mugs, wine glasses, and regular drinking glasses were labeled with each person’s name. The whole setup was the epitome of thoughtfulness and efficiency.
Other things that happened: multiple sessions of Take One, a speaker phone conversation with The Grands, a simultaneous skype session with the West Coast and Hong Kong families, front-yard sports, movies, card games, and lots of eating, cooking, and cleaning up.
Saturday morning on our way out of town, our family stopped at Krispy Kreme to goggle at the production line, sip the free mocha shots, and order a bunch of donuts for the trip back. Four hundred and seventy-five miles, multiple bathroom stops, and a bunch of hamburgers later, and we were home.
This same time, years previous: in my kitchen: 7:35 a.m., the day before, the quotidian (11.25.13), a treat, kale pomegranate salad, Thanksgiving of 2012, monster cookies, pot of red beans, Thanksgiving of 2011, peppermint lip balm, butternut squash pesto cheesecake, Thanksgiving of 2010, and apple chutney.