My mind is swimming with thoughts about turkeys and gravy boats, pecan pies and family getting together. Why? Well, because my husband and I are hosting Thanksgiving dinner with his family this year. It’s our first attempt ever, my first attempt to do it solo. I do believe that my co-workers think I’m a little crazy.
Honestly, when I decided to attempt this feat, I didn’t think it was that insane of an idea. Turkey dinner? I’ve helped out with turkey dinner so many times at my parents’ house. I even oversaw a good chunk of the preparations two years ago for my brother’s going-away party. Even gravy doesn’t scare me – I made it all the time at my parents’.
And then it dawned on me. This is the first time I’ve hosted it. The first time I’ve been responsible for how EVERYTHING turns out. What if the turkey is dry? What if the gravy is lumpy? What if I don’t get the timing right on everything – the potatoes are done long before the turkey is ready, etc.? WHAT IF MY FIRST ATTEMPT IS A FAIL?!
>>pauses for breath<<
Anyhow. After a momentary spazz attack, I’ve calmed down and while I’m still a little nervous, I’m really excited at the same time. I’ve got a turkey in the freezer and a to-do list about a mile long, but it’s going to so much fun. It’s going to be a bunch of firsts for me: first time hosting Thanksgiving dinner. First time making pecan pie.
(And along with the pecan pie-making, add another first to the list: first time I went into the liquor store and bought bourbon! For the pecan pie, of course, but still, it made me chuckle at myself and my total ignorance regarding liquor. It’s whiskey? Seriously?!)
In all honesty, I’m really excited about doing Thanksgiving dinner this year, but at the same time feel strange about it. It’s a new change, something different for us. This is the first Thanksgiving apart from my family and the first Thanksgiving that his sister won’t be around. To be honest, Thanksgiving spread is more Addy’s forte than mine and it just feels strange that I’m cooking it for the family and she isn’t…and even sadder, she and her husband won’t be here to celebrate with us. Last year, we missed my brother at Thanksgiving as he spent the first one away from home in the military. And this year, we have another gap at both my family’s home (me!) and his family’s home (Addy & Colin). Why is it that changes always seem to bring a bittersweet flavor to our lives?
Anyhow. Thanksgiving. Dinner. I’m cooking it. What are you doing for Thanksgiving this year?
On Sunday, during the thick of the wedding mayhem and madness mere hours before the ceremony, my husband called me and told me that he’d forgotten something in our apartment. I slipped out of my in-laws’ house, planning to make a quick trip back to me and my husband’s home for the missing items. I had a million things running through my head as I craned my neck and tried to maneuver around the half a dozen other family vehicles, concentrating especially on backing safely past the family van that was to transport the bride to the hall.
It was right about then that I heard a squeaky-screeching noise from the other side of my car. I whipped my head in the other direction just in time to see that I was scraping the side of my car along the bumper of a little silver car.
A silver car.
My sister-in-law – the bride! – has a silver car.
I’d just nicked the back of the bride’s car. On her wedding day.
I think I stopped breathing for a second. I knew that I was most definitely going to win worst sister-in-law of the day award with this one. I got out of the car and examined the scratch. It wasn’t huge, but it was definitely noticeable. I called my husband in a panic. We decided to wait until after the festivities to break the news to her, after he could take a look at it to see how bad it was.
Somehow, I managed to put it out of my mind for most of the rest of the day, until after dark, after we’d packed the newlyweds’ vehicles for the trip home to North Carolina and my hubby and I were just ready to head home. I reminded him of my scrape and he grabbed his flashlight. We examined her car, from rear door to bumper.
Not a scratch.
“I know I at least nicked it!” I told him in bewilderment.
He looked at me. “Are you sure you didn’t hit my car?”
I stared at him. That’s right…my husband owns a little silver car, too. “Um. Maybe.”
Sure enough. There was a scratch matching the height of my car’s mirror on rear side of his car and a corresponding scrape on his bumper to match the one on my door. I don’t think either of us were ever so happy to see damage on his car in our lives. We were just so happy to find out that I hadn’t, after all, marred his little sister’s car on the day of her wedding celebration. The reality was so much better than what we’d thought had happened originally.
And that’s why I found myself saying, “Oh THANK GOD!” upon learning that I’d scratched my husband’s car. That’s how you make bad news seem not so bad after all. Damaging hubby’s car versus damaging the bride’s car? Most definitely the best news I’d gotten during the whole incident!
(Nevertheless, I do feel like a klutz for what I did. And am very grateful for an understanding hubby who doesn’t get angry at me for adding another scratch to his car!)
After being dumped by nearly 2 feet of snow just two weeks ago, we’re now enjoying a balmy stretch of weather that has everyone walking around outside in t-shirts. It feels like a spring thaw; all the snow is melted and mud is everywhere. The temperatures have been in the 50-60s, even stretching to nearly 70 one day this week. Only in New England will the weather be so quirky, cold and snowy one day and balmy and delicious the next.
And this delicious weather arrived just in time for the wedding celebration of my sister-in-law and her husband. While they were officially married in August, this weekend marked the renewal of their vows in front of family and friends, with a reception that followed.
It was such a beautiful celebration. The hall looked marvelous with all of their hard work on both the ceremony details (they wrote their own vows!) and the reception. Both the bride and groom said their vows by memory, without prompting, and with such love. He was handsome and she was just gorgeous. The best man and maid of honor looked nearly as beautiful as the couple – not quite, but close. 😉 And the flowergirl nearly stole the show with her adorableness.
The favors were caramel apples hand-dipped and packaged by the bridal party and family. The centerpieces – beautiful wreaths with lanterns – were crafted with care by my sister-in-law herself.
And everyone just had a blast. The food was delicious, the company lovely and the dancing amazing.
A beautiful celebration for a lovely couple.
May they live happily ever after.
Confession: when my husband and I first started seeing each other, I was a staunch country-music-hater. Seriously. Growing up, I never listened to country music. Neither or my parents were fans, including my dad who was the biggest into playing music all the time (mostly CCM). In fact, occasionally my dad and older brother would make fun of country music and the twangy sound of it. Besides, why would a New Englander listen to that stuff? It wasn’t like we lived below the Mason-Dixon line.
Nope. Country music? Definitely not me.
And then…he became a part of my life. And he liked country music. Listened to it a lot. After some wheedling, he convinced me to give a try and suggested that I start with one of his favorite artists at the time: Brad Paisley.
Not entirely convinced, still, I gave it a shot. I listened to a few of his albums and really like a few certain songs: “Mud on the Tires,” “The World” and a few other love ballads. I kept listening and branched out to other artists.
By the summer, I was hooked, to my family’s surprise and amusement. I…was…a country music fan. Since then, Brad Paisley has remained a favorite just because he was my gateway drug to the genre. Listening to his music reminds me of when Ty and I first started dating. I’ve listened to his music throughout our entire relationship, from dating to engaged and to married life.
And that’s why a former country-music-hater and her hubby ended up dancing their first dance to Brad Paisley’s “Then.” Well, that and also because it always seemed to be our song. My husband and I took our time dating and making sure we were certain that we were right for each other; it never ceases to make me smile and think how true the words of this song are: “And I thought I loved you then…”
Our love has grown so much through every month and every phase of our relationship. I thought I loved him when I went with him to the fire-fighter’s ball in 2008, yet I loved him even more the next summer when we got engaged. The same on our wedding day, as I promised to love him as long as I live. And now six months later…I know it’s possible to love someone even more.
I can’t wait to grow old with him and keep thinking, “And I thought I loved you then, but I love you even more now.”
Yup. Love has managed to turn this country-music-hater into a total fan and a total sappy romantic.
The snow is melting away, a little more each day. The snow that was waist deep on my littlest sister is almost a memory, a record breaking one at that. But on Saturday…oh the snow, the snow, the snow. The forecast that morning was dire enough to make us wonder and then in the afternoon, it fell so thick and furious, I wondered how we’d make the drive in the snow, especially without snow tires (because why on earth would one get snow tires put on her car before the first of November?!).
But. We made it. We were determined, as was just about everyone else who had RSVPed for the night.
We made it to the ball. And while the snow fell 12-24 inches deep around our cars outside, we danced the night away. An awe-inspiring night – everyone kept exclaiming, “Can you believe the snow?!” – and it was magical.
Our first ball as a married couple. 🙂 Two years ago this fall, a handsome fire-fighter asked me to accompany him to a ball. Well, actually, at first, he kind of assumed I’d accompany him, considering we’d been going out for the past nine months. A girl likes to be asked, however, and I told him that. 😉 And so he asked me, would I like to go? Of course I would and so I did. It was a magical evening then, as I learned how delightful slow-dancing and being held in my love’s arms could be…
And even more delightful now as his wife. For instead of being taken home at about midnight, like Cinderella after her ball, and saying goodnight until the next ordinary occasion we’d meet – this time, there were no good-byes at the front door, but good nights as we fell asleep next to each other in bed.
Cinderella and her prince have nothing on me and my favorite fire-fighter. I mean, c’mon. We had snow as a magical landscape. I don’t think she ever had that in her story.
What do you do?
Well, first you steal a couple kids from your parents’ house, then drive back to the lot where you’re building your house…
And go sledding, of course!
Ty and I had my two littlest sisters over for the afternoon on Sunday and since we had a surprise October snowfall, we decided to take advantage of it and the marvelous hill on the little piece of land that will one day be our home.
We all had a blast. I’ve earned serious big sister brownie points, as has Ty earned big-brother-in-law points as well. Juji informed him that it was ‘the best fun day ever!’ and thoroughly enjoyed sled rides down the hill in his lap and Tyson-rides back up the hill on his shoulders. And while Mia didn’t get rides on Ty’s shoulders, I think she had just as much fun sliding by herself.
A day well spent.
PS – My hubby is going to be such an awesome daddy one day. 🙂 I’ve always known that, but his awesome skillz with my siblings this weekend has clinched it. I’m looking forward to raising a family with him.