Thanksgiving morning: hard frost, dazzling sun, vermillion pops of color at the bird feeder, and the fawn who lost its spots has found corn in the trough out back and learned to stand on its hind legs to reach the delicacy. After this accomplishment, she does a dance of joy, running madly in circles.
It is Thanksgiving. Time to make the squash casserole, the wild rice and cherry pilaf, and prep the herb-roasted turkey breast. Coffee’s on. I’m ready to chop, sauté, simmer and roast. I made the Triple Cranberry Sauce (with its secret ingredient) yesterday and packed it into quart-sized Ball jars. Also a pumpkin-cream cheese dip for apple slices, just to prove there’s room for a Mayo Clinic-approved desert side by side with more indulgent treats.
I’m not exactly back to blogging. But Buck and I are on a brief contemplative hiatus in our mad pursuit of novel finishing (me) and agent-finding (him) to walk the woods, gather with family, and savor the holiday.
Best wishes to you and yours. Happy Thanksgiving!