#163 He Buys Me New Pajamas

I tend to over plan for Thanksgiving breakfast.  This year I completely lost my mind. My dessert list began with eight desserts and ended with thirteen.  Fortunately, I had the entire week off of work and could spread out my baking.  Yet somehow, someway, the day before Thanksgiving I still had three pies to assemble, cookies to bake, and cinnamon rolls to make.

I was so blessed that three of my favorite girls in the entire world offered to come over and help me.  You can't tell it by looking at the below picture, but these girls are only around three feet tall, the oldest is in third grade, and the youngest is only four-years-old.

Oh wait, that was five zillion years ago when I got married and they were my flower girls.

They pretty much made my life a million times easier by being a second, third, and fourth pair of hands for me.  Hannah took over the cookies, while Rebekah and Grace peeled and sliced my apples as I prepared for the blueberry, peach, and apple pies. 

We ran into a bit of an issue with the apple pie.  It didn't want to move easily from off the pan, so we laughed difficulty in the face and put our noggins (and four spatulas) together.

I'm pretty sure this pie would have ended up in the trash without their help.

Since we only needed one apple pie for Thanksgiving, and also since the second sort of fell apart when I tried to lift it off the pan after it baked, we enjoyed the fruits of our labors* as we waited for the cinnamon roll dough to rise.

*Bad pun.  I try not to use those too frequently, but this one was just too easy not to pass up.

Five zillion years ago, when I was first married, I prepped for Thanksgiving breakfast all by myself.

Back then there were less desserts, but I also had less time to make it all.  I think I like having so many helpers.

This was the year of the pies.  Growing up I was never a pie person.  My family only ever ate pumpkin or pecan pie and I only tolerated pumpkin pie and wrinkled my nose to pecan pie.

I know, foolish, foolish girl.

Today my favorite pie in the world is shoo fly pie* but I have willingly started to try pies which before I would profusely refuse.  I tried key lime pie for the first time last year and was shocked at how delicious it was and also a little upset that I had been missing out on it for so long.

*If you are ever in Lancaster, you must buy one from Dutch Haven and ONLY from Dutch Haven.  Do not be deceived by other shoo fly pies.  Dutch Haven's is the best.  The ONLY best.

I gave Hubby the choice of pies I would make and his decision was: Apple, Blueberry, Peach, Pumpkin with Rum, and Cherry.*

*I want everyone to note that without these pie additions, we would have been back at the original eight recipes.  This, friends, is how I spell love.

P-I-E

The blueberry pie recipe I chose had a picture attached which looked almost exactly like the one above.  Everyone I showed it to said the blueberries would never stay as beautifully placed as in the picture, but I proved them wrong!

You can't see it so well in this picture, but Hannah drew a turkey on my blueberry pie crust and I made the slits around it.  It's all about being creative with desserts.

The peach pie was a little messier than the blueberry, but not at all soupy like some pies end up being.  It was hubby's favorite.

I think thirteen desserts will have to be my limit*.  My table can't seem to handle anymore.

*You'll note, there are fourteen on the table.  My mom brought her awesome cheese pie which is basically home style cheesecake.  Yum! 

 

I think one day, when I live in the mansion of my dreams, I would like for Thanksgiving breakfast to be open to the public.  I feel like too many of my friends are missing out on pretty much the most awesome tradition ever established.

Did I mention we wear pajamas for Thanksgiving breakfast?

I mean, seriously, can it get better than lounging in your pajamas with friends and family while watching the Macy's Day Parade with a plate full of pie and pastries?

At least in my world, the answer to that question is no.

I certainly get my promptness from my parents.  They were the first guests, and as soon as the first guests arrive it is pretty much a free for all.  The desserts stay out all morning and guests can come and go as they please.

I also try to remind them that there is no judgement served as well as no calories at Thanksgiving breakfast.  I think this is important.  That way everyone can eat to their heart's delight.

The best dressed at breakfast was certainly Jonathan the Elf.  Smiling is his favorite, his favorite color is red, and his favorite pastime is singing loud for all to hear.

Do you have a most awesome family tradition that could compete with our Thanksgiving breakfast?  Post it in the comments section!

#161 He is Slow to Speak

In church today we had an awesome Thanksgiving service called 'Thunch'.

It began with food, hence, 'Thunch'.

Personally, I find this is always a great way to start church.

After a short message, our pastor gave an open invitation for anyone to share something they were thankful for this year.  As congregants stood up to share personal stories of God's faithfulness during the year, I felt the tug inside.

The problem was that by the first testimony, I was already holding back tears, and it didn't help that two of the following testimonies started with tears.

I can cry at the simplest of heart warming stories, so considering this was a major PMS day for me, it was no doubt in my mind that if I had raised my hand for the microphone I would have instantly began to stutter and blubber as I gagged on the massive frog in my throat.

It's so much easier for me to write my emotions.  Some people are excellent orators.  They can say absolutely nothing, but the simple delivery of their words mesmerizes (hello, politicians?).  For me, I have found writing to be the best way to convey my true emotion.  If I try to speak without a script, it comes out sounding extremely uneducated, and that isn't even counting the massive number of and's and um's.

That said I have so much to be thankful for, always, but especially this past year.

If you follow my blog, you know I lost my job in June due to my school closing.  Initially, I felt little worry over this.  I knew God had it under control.  I did my part in searching for jobs, and busied myself in the meantime with my blog, other writing projects, exercising, music, and cooking.  After two seemingly sure things passed me by, I started to feel the tug of worry within.  I had two and a half months of unemployment left.  What would I do when it ran out?

Just as my worries began they were squashed when one of my sure things came through and I was offered a job position.

A second thing I have to be thankful for, which certainly would have set me a wreck with tears had I tried to speak it, is restored relationships.  A year ago, my younger brother, Joel, and I were barely speaking to one another.  Our relationship had spiraled from one of best friends who hung out practically every other day into awkward acquaintances who suffered through spending two hours together at monthly family functions.  Today, he and his wife sat with Hubby and me at our church.  At this same 'Thunch' service a year ago, I would have said it was impossible for our relationship to find healing.  But God crafted our broken pieces into a bond more sincere, more loving, and more worthwhile than even a fraction of what we had before.

Sometimes I know I have faith like the centurion in Matthew 8: 5-13.  He asks Jesus to heal his servant and when Jesus asks if he would like him to come to heal him the centurion's response is, "...just say the word, and my servant will be healed".

This story is one of my favorites in the entire Bible because I read it and have instant respect for this man.  So many people today want you to prove yourself, they want you to stand on your head to show your ability, to show your worth.  Yet, this man knew for certain that Jesus was who he said he was.  He didn't waste his time forcing him to put on a show to impress his friends and family, he faithfully asked that Jesus would do what only he could do.

I know what Jesus has the power to do and that I need only to believe he will do it for it to be done.  But just as strong as my faith can be at times, I know lurking behind, hidden in the shadows, is unbelief that the father of the demon possessed boy in Mark 9 unabashedly admits to have.  Jesus tells him, "...all things are possible to him who believes," and the man answers, "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief."

Again, another favorite passage of mine, because how can you fault this man for his honesty?  Haven't we all been in his shoes at one point or another?  We want to stand strong in our faith, but that unbelief creeps in and, just like this father, we suddenly need to seek God's help in battling not only the problem we currently face, but also, our unbelief.

Most often it isn't that we haven't taken all the proper steps towards what we want or need.  We apply for the jobs.  We try to say 'I'm sorry' in the most sincere way possible.  But as soon as we've done our part, we expect God to instantly move.  We forget that even when we are waiting, God has everything under control and is simply hoping that we, like the centurion, will look to him and say, "No need to come home with me God, no need to show yourself with a display of fireworks and fanfare--just say the word and I know Your Will will be done in my life."

God orchestrated what job I would eventually find and the timing in which I would find it.  God moved in my brother's heart and mine to prepare us, in his timing, for our reconciliation.  

He did the hardest part!  I needed to only believe.

In all things give thanks.  Give thanks for the things He has done, but also, give thanks for the things that you are believing He will do--because He will certainly do them.

#146 He Loves Fall

I peeked through scrunched morning eyes from underneath the fortress of my heavy feather comforter as Hubby got ready for work this morning.  "It's 47 degrees out," he said

"Right now?" I asked as if he might be talking about next week or the weather in Canada for some odd reason.

New Jersey's weather has been so unpredictable it has put me in quite the moody state.  Of course, I loved our summer days that felt like fall and wished that they would remain.  But the current days where the mornings start cool and then turn into a muggy 75 by the afternoon make me want to cry.

Today's temperature seemed like the perfect true start to fall.

I've been ready for fall since the end of winter.  Winter is bearable for me, except last winter--I'm not sure what happened there.  I despise spring and while I enjoy some elements of summer, it gets old after a week or so.

I'll spare you the generic lists you've seen on social media for why girls like fall (hoodies, pumpkin spice lattes, boots, cooler weather, etc).  Naturally, if you like fall you must be a fan of cooler weather.  I don't necessarily have a fall favorites list, but here are a few things I'm looking forward to now that it is fall:

1. Hot Chocolate

The best hot chocolate I have ever experienced was from Eleven Madison Park in NYC.  It was several years ago, so who knows if they even serve it anymore, but it was like drinking melted milk chocolate.  The next best thing I've found is at The Bent Spoon in Princeton, NJ.  Warning!  It is extremely thick, but full of chocolate deliciousness.*

Then of course, there is always homemade which sometimes is just as good.  

*It is so thick that leftovers in my fridge turned into a chocolate pudding-like state. 

2. The Colors of Fall

I recently realized that I keep some items that really should be labeled as "fall decorations" up all year.  The only reason I can assume that I do not take them down is that these items fall into the color scheme that I love.  Bright summer colors are nice, but warm fall colors set my mind at ease.  

3. Fires

We've used our fire pit once or twice this summer.  While it's nice to have a fire in the summer, it's better in the fall.  In the summer you have to battle mosquitoes while balancing not being too close to the fire.  Because the fire is hot, and chances are the day is still hot--because it's summer.

In fall the mosquitoes are gone, the weather is cooler, and bundling up near a fire with a stick packed with sugar just seems like the right thing to do.     

4. Pumpkin Carving

I was in my twenties before I carved my first pumpkin.

Shocking, I know.

I've done it a few times since then and discovered it to be too much of a hassle for me. (You'll note that I do not have a pumpkin in the above picture).  However, I love to see what other people can do with them.  In case you can't tell, and I'm sure you can't for some of them, the first pumpkin pictured above is Gizmo from Gremlins, the second is one that Jonathan taped pictures to (much safer than giving him a knife to hack at it with), the third pumpkin is Hubby's carving of the world (it looked much better from a different angle, I promise), the fourth pumpkin is Jack from Nightmare Before Christmas, and the last pumpkin is Edgar Allen Poe.  

Carving pumpkins is so much more fun when done with family or friends.

If all else fails, I like to purchase plastic pumpkins that have had inspirational sayings "carved" into them for decoration.  It saves the whole rotting step from happening.

5. Thanksgiving Breakfast

I have been thinking about Thanksgiving breakfast since summer.  Now that it is fall I'm actually allowed to begin thinking about it.

In case this is your first time here, my Thanksgiving breakfast is a little---different.  For well over ten years now, my family begins Thanksgiving morning by having dessert for breakfast.  It's pretty much my favorite thing about Thanksgiving, aside from the turkey...and the parade.  I usually get a little out of hand and make about ten desserts too many.  I promise, this tradition didn't begin this way.  It started with my mother and my aunt eating one piece of their pumpkin pie in the morning and it has turned into something that perhaps one day I will seek therapy for.

This year I'm thinking of making pie the theme.  The only problem is I have never experimented with the perfect pie crust.  

Looks like I'm going to be busy this October.

6. Hot Coffee and Holiday Coffee Cups

In the summer I usually give up my hot coffee for the cooling delight of iced coffee.  When fall comes and I can begin ordering my hot coffee again, it warms my heart--literally and figuratively.  Poor Hubby then has to endure the shrieks and childish giggles that I somehow produce at the sight of holiday coffee cups.  It means, just as the start of fall means ultimately for me, that Christmas is almost here.  

#117 He Counts His Blessings

One of my favorite Christmas songs has always been, "Count Your Blessings (Instead of Sheep)".  In case you aren't familiar, here's a little bit of it:

"When I'm worried and I can't sleep

I count my blessings instead of sheep

I fall asleep counting my blessings

When my bankroll is getting small

I think of when I had none at all

I fall asleep counting my blessings"

I have an immeasurable amount of blessings for which I am beyond thankful.  This isn't even the tip of the iceberg, but I find it of utmost importance to sit down and recognize my blessings every so often so that when I have a moment where I find myself wallowing in a pool of my own tears I can put everything into perspective by remembering all that I have been given.

1. Family

Dad: My dad recently started a new job and up until two days before Thanksgiving, he was committed to working Thanksgiving day.  That meant missing my delicious dessert breakfast and coming home to a late Thanksgiving dinner, and then getting up early the next morning to do it all over again.  I'm thankful my dad found out he didn't have to work Thanksgiving and was able to spend the entire day home with his family.

Mom: Every year my mom makes our entire feast and doesn't ask any of her children for a lick of help.  Do I think she's crazy?  Yes.  But I'm so thankful for a mother who provides, doesn't demand, and loves unconditionally.

Gram and the memory of Pop: My grandfather, Pop, would occasionally volunteer to pray at our holiday meals.  It was a deeply emotional prayer thanking God that he was alive one more year and able to spend the holiday with his family.  I'm thankful for his memory and thankful to still have my Gram with us.

Siblings: This Thanksgiving, not only am I thankful for my birth siblings, my siblings by marriage, but also for those that are my siblings not only through birth.  I'm grateful for those I got to spend part of the day with and those who are always with me in spirit.

Hubby: My blog says enough for why I'm thankful for my husband, but this picture says even more:

2. Food

My love for eating food has been ever present.  However, my love for cooking food has not always been.  My mother dragged me to a pampered chef party at my Aunt Terry's house the year before I was to be married.  All the women were going around answering the question, "What do you like to cook?"  When it came to me, I honestly blurted out, "Nothing.  My husband is going to starve."  I'm thankful for this inexplicable love of cooking, baking, and being in the kitchen.

I'm also thankful for the tradition of my family dessert breakfast.  You can read about how it began and what last year's was like here: Thanksgiving breakfast.  I'll be posting over at www.theorangestrainer.blogspot.com a few new recipes I did this year.

Like this candied bacon:

And these cinnamon rolls:

And this cranberry butter:

3. Relaxation

It is hard for me to take time to relax.  I have to be severely ill or interested in watching a movie to actually "relax".  Thanksgiving is one of the few times during the year that my couch and I cozy up together with absolutely no regrets.

4. Holidays

Holidays and the traditions within them are a blessing.  I know that I can take the likeness of Tevye from Fiddler on the Roof when it comes to traditions and holidays.  I have a controlling love over them.  Unlike Tevye, who followed tradition because it was all he ever knew, I think I have such a firm grasp to mine because some of the best times of my life have been spent within moments of family traditions.

This was a last minute cell phone shot.  I love it.

5. Home

There are many who can't be home during this time of the year.  Sickness, location, careers, and more keep many separated from their loved ones with no consideration of what time of year it is.

This is a tough one to remember to be thankful for.  It is something that we often take for granted.

Of course we will be home for the holidays.

Of course we will hug our family members once again, eat together, laugh together.

I'm thankful, just as Pop always was, for another year to have the privilege of being home with my family.

#116 He is Humble

I love my blog.  I love being able to write about what I want, whenever I want.

I do have a confession though.  Sickeningly sweet displays of affection between significant others disgust me.  When I see PDA, I want to barf.  When couples baby talk to each other in my presence, I want to bonk their heads together and say, "Yo! You're thirty-something-years-old for crying out loud, knock it off!" 

Now, I realize I'm a hypocrite.  I throw sickeningly sweet displays of my love for my husband at you all the time.  In other words, feel free to give me, as Liz Lemon from 30 Rock says, "an exaggerated eye roll".

Sickeningly sweet, or seriously scary?  You decide.

No, you know what, you deserve two.  Go ahead.  Two exaggerated eye rolls for you for putting up with my nonsense.

Blogging, or even let's just say the social media world period, has given people a power that they have abused.  We speak like we know everything, when really half of the content out there is plagiarized imitations which seek desperately to wow peoples' news feeds with yet another post that states something opposite the usual like, "Why I Don't Love My Children" but really in the end has a moral (or not in some cases).*

*Note: I don't have children, so don't get any ideas.

But we really know nothing.  We over glorify our opinions and write them in a way that seems so convincing the reader looks at it and thinks, "Wow, this is written so adamantly, it must be true".  

Me?  I am not a verified source in anything.  I hold no more than a simple bachelor's degree and a few master's credits.

It doesn't stop there.  Social media allows us to boast proudly of accomplishments that others from the outside looking in stare baffled by the hows and whats that it took to reach such incomprehensible feats.  In other words, we make out that we are living perfect pinterested lives when really we should be reaching out to those who can't even spell pinterest.

Wait a minute.  Pinterest isn't even a word.  So, who cares if you can't spell it? 

For the past four days I have been unable to speak much higher than a whisper without sounding like a croaking toad.  

Laryngitis is for the birds.  

So maybe it is the fact that I've had to listen more, or maybe it's just something that getting old does to you, but I'm tired.

I'm tired of people being against people.  I'm tired of people who think they know everything.  I'm tired of people caring more about who liked a picture they posted than if a friend in need has made it through the night okay.  

Bottom line: I'm tired of people caring only for themselves.  

When did we allow ourselves to become so numb to the people around us?  To not realize that every single life matters and should be treated in such a way?

I have a million things swimming in my mind that I want to post about Thanksgiving.

Like these beautiful, sinfully scrumptious scones

I've been planning and preparing and prepping for my favorite day for weeks, but the feeling that has been overwhelming me right now is want for my fellow man.  Want that each person would feel valued.  Want that each person would have exactly what they need in life.  Want that we all could treat every person we run into with love and warmth, regardless of who they are, what they stand for, or what they did to us.

We have so much to be thankful for.  Thanksgiving really isn't the day to do it.  Everyday is.  Instead of making Thursday about giving thanks, why can't we give to others so they can have something to be thankful for?  

I don't mean in the typical way.  This is the time of year when you'll hear it most: food drives, clothing drives, gifts for children.  All of that is wonderful and certainly something worth participating in, but how about the things you can give without spending a dime?  How about the things that you can give when it isn't the giving season?

A smile

Holding the door for someone

A compliment

A conversation 

A hug

A word of encouragement

Letting someone get in front of you in the check out line

Your time

Humbleness

I'm not really a wishy washy person and you certainly won't hear me constantly ragging on issues such as this, but it's one that is on my heart for the moment.  Again, I'm not a verified source on anything.  But, I believe the main focus of our lives is not meant to be ourselves, but others.

Who can you give to so they have a reason to give thanks this holiday season?

#112 He Drives the Parkway for Me

The Garden State Parkway is my least favorite road in New Jersey to travel.  This is followed by the New Jersey Turnpike, which is followed by Route 130.  Although, Route 130 is really in its own special class.  The area of it by my house is perfectly fine.  I drive it with little angst or anxiety.  The end south of Florence is the when I start sucking my thumb and screaming for my mommy.

Note: I had to drive it for work for a whole year of my lovely life.  I still twitch a little whenever I have to grace it with my presence.

Hubby drives the Garden State Parkway (GSP) everyday.  Only a short stretch, but it is the most dreadful part of his entire commute, as noted by me.  I don't think he acknowledges how terrible it is.  Perhaps he has blinded himself to the horrors of this road so that he is able to endure it.

I don't know.

In case you don't live in New Jersey, or in case you are so blessed as to never have to drive this end of the GSP, here are my complaints.  For starters, there are five lanes.  That in itself is recipe for disaster.  As if that wasn't bad enough, whoever designed the lanes clearly had smart cars in mind because short of a bicycle, they are the only other vehicle that could comfortably fit.  Though I know I am staying in my lane, I am constantly feeling as though I'm drifting closer and closer to the cars beside me.  I can't imagine what it is like when there is an accident.  On top of all this, the lanes curve and turn more than a bendy straw.  Meaning that as a driver you have to be doubly alert.

That said, Hubby ventured even further than usual down the GSP with me Tuesday night for a life changing event: another chance to see the Pioneer Woman live and in person.

Okay, not exactly life changing.  Perhaps, simply inspiring?

You might recall a year and a half ago, when this blog was just a baby, Hubby took me to meet The Pioneer Woman.  Her second book had come out and I was ecstatic to go to NYC to see her.  I walked on clouds the entire night and left the city with her signature, a blurry picture, and the courage to pursue my dreams.

Seeking another such experience, I begged Hubby to take me to the signing of her recently released holiday cookbook.

Alright, I didn't really have to beg.  I just said I wanted to go and he made it happen.

I love him.

Our long drive down the GSP wasn't so horrible.  We headed out before rush hour and were at the bookstore a honkin' two hours before the signing started.  We weren't taking any chances with having to wait three hours again to get our book signed.

No, that time is not an exaggeration.

This signing was in the Barnes and Noble in Paramus, NJ and they did not seem to have their ish together.

I know, I just used a non word 'ish'.  It was that horrible and I'm sorry.

There were no organized lines, no staff readily available to guide and assist the customers, it was, in a word: nightmarish.

We weren't let in to our seats for the presentation until 15 minutes before it began.  Which meant we had to stand for an hour and a half.   

We got coffee first, of course.

When we were finally seated, the leg room provided was worse than economy class on an airplane.

We were in the third row and although we really should have been in the second or first, I wasn't complaining.

Okay, I might have complained just a little.

Pioneer Woman, Ree Drummond, came out a half hour late.  Apparently no one had warned her what NYC traffic into NJ is like around 5 o'clock. 

Again, people, get your ish together!

She did a short presentation that inspired me to blog blog blog, and then began signing books.

Which meant more waiting.

There were quite some characters that Hubby and I observed together as we all bonded in the boredom of waiting and the stickiness of three hundred people being squished in a small room for two hours.

Pioneer Woman is gracious enough to sign every item brought to her and to pose for pictures with every person who wants one.

Hubby was beginning to melt and hinted to wanting to step outside when I was only about a half hour away from getting my book signed.  I gave him the you-won't-get-in-trouble-later-if-you-do-this okay and he cleared out of the room.

Which meant the poor Barnes and Noble guy had to take my picture for me.  I brought my DSLR camera this time, instead of using my phone last minute like last time.  He looked at my camera, held it for a moment, then said, "It's not on" and Pioneer Woman and I shared an understanding laugh.  I went over to explain to him that it was indeed on, but the picture was not going to show up on the screen, that he actually had to look through the little hole that is made for an eyeball to be held up to.

It was a learning experience for us both.

*"Boy, I'm glad I didn't use a blotting paper, tissue, of even just a sheet of paper on my face before this picture"...wait, nope that's not what I said.  I looked at my picture on the ride home and though, "Gee, I'm so glad I fixed my hair before this picture.  If only I realized it was my oily face that needed the work!".

Though I had pre-ordered my cookbook, as any true fan would, I bought one of her "Charlie" books for my Kindergarten class.  She signed it to them and I shared it the next day in school.  They seemed to really enjoy the fact that her dog likes bacon....just like any smart person or animal would!

*Oh look...Kitty Kitty is having the same problem that my face was having.

Hubby and I love trying local restaurants whenever we are in a different city.  Hubby found "Chakra" while we were waiting in line.

He may or may not have made a reservation for 7:30 and we may or may not have shown up at 8:00 and pretended we didn't have a reservation.

Come on, don't tell me you've never done it.

It was a Tuesday night, after all.

Okay, I know, I'm just making excuses now.

You would never know from it's name that it is a Modern American restaurant. 

The mood was very intimate, definitely a perfect date setting.  There were couches with pillows instead of chairs for some of the seating.  There was one wooden table seating about ten with a glass top that covered a dug out center that any type of "centerpiece" could be placed in, or under.  I wanted it. 

It's been some time since I've pulled out my DSLR camera in a restaurant, but my food looked so good I knew I needed to do it.  I had to do it.  I ordered the Goffle Farm Chicken 'Thanksgiving Style' with a side of Yukon Gold mashed potatoes.  The chicken was tender and served on top of root vegetables, cornbread stuffing, and cranberry jus.  It was the perfect blend of wonderful.  The mashed potatoes might not have been a necessity, but they made it that much more delightful.  They were smooth, buttery, and everything I love in a mashed potato.

Hubby ordered the TC steak which is 40-day aged Colorado sirloin steak served with cream spinach.  He also ordered a side of hand-cut fries topped with Parmesan and truffle oil and served with ketchup, aioli, and spicy mayonnaise.

I'm going to be honest.  I was so obsessed with my food that I didn't even look at Hubby's plate until his steak was half way gone.  I did get a bite of his steak and a handful of fries.  The steak was perfectly done and the fries were exceptional.  The aioli and spicy mayonnaise were a delightful difference to the average french fry dipping sauce of ketchup.

If Hubby hadn't said it first, I might have said it myself.  The experience of going to a book signing is awesome, the first time.  While this trip was still inspirational, and all in all I'm glad I went, it will probably be the last book signing I attend until I am able to go to one of my own.

Here's to that hope.

#82 He Eats Dessert for Breakfast

My Thanksgiving was awesome.  So awesome, that I have been hesitating to post pictures because they are sure to bring about jealousy to anyone reading this who was not at my family's Thanksgiving feast.

And perhaps even to those who were there and wish they could relive it.

The day started with my family coming over my house decked out in their jammies ready to watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade and eat breakfast.

Although we wouldn't be eating our dinner until late afternoon, a couple of turkeys showed up anyway.

The menu for breakfast had been planned out with care:

Oh yes, I forgot to mention.  Thanksgiving breakfast with my family is dessert, not breakfast.

Let me repeat.  We eat desserts for breakfast.

Yes, that was plural.  DessertS.

Now, before you begin thinking my family as totally crazy there is, of course, a story behind the madness.  When I was growing up, my Aunt Linda (whom you may remember from this post) and my mother would talk on the phone as they began their Thanksgiving feast preparations early in the morning.  The overwhelming temptation to taste their freshly baked pumpkin pies was among the highly important conversation topics.  Then one Thanksgiving, my aunt had enough.  When she called my mother that morning she told her, "Kathy, I did it.  I ate some of the pumpkin pie for breakfast!".   My mother joined in and soon the entire family was partaking in the tradition of eating dessert for breakfast on Thanksgiving.

My Aunt Linda has passed on.  Continuing the dessert tradition, in a way, is a piece of her still with us.  When I got married, I wanted to have Thanksgiving breakfast at my house.  I get a little carried away, and, well, Thanksgiving breakfast is no longer just a few simple pies.

It's apple cider donuts.

Chocolate trifles.

Pumpkin and chocolate chip bundts.

Cherry cheese pie.

Chocolate chip cookies.

And more!  It is with great sadness that I admit I didn't take pictures of the apple dumplings, the better-than-pumpkin-pie, or the delicious cinnamon rolls that my SIL, Kristina, and I worked painstakingly on during Thanksgiving Eve.

This Thanksgiving I had a "mini" theme going which is why most of the desserts pictured are bite-sized or in quantities of more than one.

Somehow, each year, despite the second and third helpings of dessert that we all enjoy, we still find the energy and drive to want to eat more only a few hours later.

If the dessert pictures were hard for you, this will probably be worse.

You've been warned.

This is contestant number one: the deep fried turkey.

But oh wait!  What is that behind contestant number one?  

It's everything you thought it was.  Contestant number two: the roasted turkey.

Unfortunately, there is no heart warming story behind the fact that my family makes two turkeys every year for Thanksgiving.  It is simply this: we like deep fried turkey, we like roasted turkey.

All we want is everything.  That's not to much to ask, right?

This year, my parents purchased a new turkey fryer.  The last one could only fry a 13-pound turkey.  The new one fries a 20-pound one.

So of course, we got a 20-pound turkey to deep fry.

It was a little hard for dad to get the other turkey out of the roasting pan.

I forgot to mention, the roasted turkey was 24-pounds.

I'm not sure what method of turkey lifting he is trying here.

All I know is I was really worried for the safety of that bird.

Even Justin was worried.

Carving a turkey has become a full family event.  It started as a special time between me and my dad, yet it has evolved into quite the show.

Some people work a little harder than others.

But this is always the end result.

I'm going to level with you here.  That's my fork in the bottom left corner of this photo.

I'm not ashamed.  This is the way I eat turkey.

Never at the table.

Never on a plate.

Once both of those 20-pound delights were carved basically bare, that was when I really began to dig in.

After all, right up against the bones is where the best pieces of meat are.

It's all about waste not, want not, right?

I hope your Thanksgiving table was as plentiful as ours!  I must admit, I'm longing for next year already.