Over the river and through the woods to my mom's house we go. Chris knows the way to carry our sleigh through the wide and drifting snow. Except there's no snow (possibly some ice) and thankfully we will be in a car. It's Thanksgiving! I'm typing this up at 8 AM and I'm expecting a call from Dad any minute now asking if we're almost there yet.
My contribution to the family dinner this year is dessert. Last night I made a pumpkin and an apple pie. I started to peel the apples with a regular old vegetable peeler, but I found it just didn't peel right. So (and Chris wasn't around to tell me NO), I picked up a pairing knife. By the second to the last apple, I could peel the whole thing without breaking the peel. Just like Mom. I can be instantly transported to back to Mom's kitchen whenever I start backing. I can remember standing on my little step stool, hip to hip with Mom as we cut out cookies or rolled out biscuits. Sometimes she would just make up a batch of biscuit dough for me to play with like clay. I would build people and animals and then we'd bake them. And I remember it always being nice and warm inside that kitchen, inside those memories.
That's what I'm focusing on today. The warmth of my parents home. The warmth of being surrounded by loved ones. Happy Love Thursday and Happy Thanksgiving. Be safe. Be warm.