Saturday, November 14, 2009

Holidays in the White House at the Top of Stanley Street

This time every year, I start getting magazines with centerpiece ideas and mouth watering recipes...that will never happen. I always have grand visions of golden turkeys and berry-dotted stuffing, pies of something other than pumpkin, and vegetab
les different from green beans. These items never happen though. When it comes down to it, its about the family and the friends that are at the table. Fancy place cards are not needed because everyone gets along.

Conversations range at the pseudo-kid's table and the seasoned veteran's from hedgehogs ruining the yard to making five gallons of eggnog for the up coming Christmas party. The food is just as delicious as the year before, even though its the same. Its the tradition that is comforting and the repetition that only comes once a year that is warm and inviting. Its the fact that every year, my best friend comes to eat her third dinner of the day with us and I can always throw an olive clear across the table directly into her mouth during Grace and no one is none the wiser. Its the fact that this year will be my first Thanksgiving in a very long time being single, and I know that it will be OK because I will be in the presence of great company.

This year is also the first year, as an adult, that my household will be holding Thanksgiving. I'm oddly excited and nervous. My entire life I've watched and helped prepare the feast, even helping Nick grind the innards for my mom's famous stuffing. This year I'll be helping Nate and Crystal (and maybe even Dave) in that white house at the top of Stanley Street. Because I've managed to become the resident chef, I having a sneaking suspicion that I will be put in charge of cooking, with Crystal in charge of cleaning, and Nate is charge of pecan pies. However, I'm satisfied with that, because after all, when all is said and done, I will be surrounded by my friends and family, and the food will be delicious, and when I am stuffed to the brim, I can climb into my comfy bed at the top of the stairs in the white house at the top of Stanley Street.

1 comment:

  1. You get to say grace this year oh eloquent one! I don't know who Claire is but it is the only way I can post! Love, me