Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving has come and gone. And to my surprise, I didn't get overwhelmed and cry. I find myself tearing up a little too often for my own comfort. A pioneer woman in a frontier land is a bit bothersome and trying at times. But Thanksgiving Day I fell into my comfortable role as head chef of a family of seven.

Seven? Yes. When Husband returned for his last trip to Kansas, he brought back a friend of ours and her 4 year old boy. Having them here has helped me emotionally. As Small Farm Girl reminded me, I do not have my support system here. It's me and my family against the hills. Our friends husband is in the Navy, she hasn't seen him in almost a year. She told me that staying the month with us has helped her as well. And I am glad of that.

I digress, Thanksgiving Day. I didn't wake before the dawn. I slept in by two hours. I started the turkey, and the sides, finished the potato bread and we were eating by 3pm. I adore my obsolete stove.

It's difficult to see the bounty that I made. Little sunlight makes it into the house, and my phone doesn't like taking pictures sans bright light. Makes things look darker. As I cooked, our friend and all our boys went sledding in the 6" of snow that fell.

Well. . . Ok it was only an inch, the weatherman told us 6" was on the way. It never showed. Not even the second inch they said would arrive that night. The hills make their own weather, it's harder to predict things here than on the open plains. People here truly believe that the weather is easily predictable in Kansas. I giggle at that. I know, it's flat and open, however we have nothing to slow things down, nor help spread it up. We are at the mercy of the Gulf and Canada and what they decide to send that way. When they meet in the middle of the US, bam! Swing season and tornadoes erupt. But if the Rockies decide to intervene, it blows it away to the Ozarks. Our local guys are better than the national weathermen on telling you what is about to happen. 

Now I have to get use to the weather signals here. Without a defined horizon it become jumbled on what the clouds are doing. Sometimes it looks like a hill has exploded and I am seeing the aftermath plume of smoke. And it is merely a small storm. 

Thanksgiving gave us pause. We talked about the things we were grateful for. I was grateful to be walking, Husband was thankfull we were still with him. My boys, well you know how boys are. But the things they were thankful for made us giggle. 

We had pie, which by the way was made by a pumpkin Small Farm Girl had gave me for Halloween. And as I had nothing to purée the pulp completely, it was a bit chunky, like good mash potatoes. To be honest, it was very good. Then we fell asleep close to the fire.