Not Your Grandma's Thanksgiving Story (hopefully)

Gather round, friends, for a tale of woe and horror this Thanksgiving night (it's afternoon but for our purposes...)

One cold and windy Thanksgiving Eve, I with focus and great care, was brushing my first-born's hair. From the basement I heard a shout. "Mom! Come see this!" Sleepy and still in my morning funk, I responded with a sour, "Not right now," and carried on with the hair. I barely registered the thump of feet up the stairs, but then the door opened and a child's voice innocently asked, "So, is this a fake one, or a dead one." "That makes no sense..." I began, turning to look over my shoulder, and  shrieked when I saw that in my sons hands, clamped in a pair of pliers, was a mouse, held helpfully at eye level.

With a scream, Riley and I made a dash for an adjoining room, startling Joe, who dropped the pliers and the mouse, causing our overgrown puppy to bound for the kitchen. I barely snagged his collar as he lunged for the mouse, and, after kenneling the dog, ran through some mental exercises to snag an anxiety attack by the collar as well. Sending the kids from the room, I grabbed a shoe box and scooped the offending rodent (dead, now confirmed) into the box and out to the trash just in time for morning pickup. As I stood on the curb, contemplating my narrow escape and watching the garbage truck's long arm lift the truck, I saw with horror the shoe box teeter and fall out of the can and onto the lawn. I made to pick it up, but the kindly garbage man beat me too it and without ever knowing he actually held a tiny coffin, tossed it unceremoniously into the heap. I fervently thanked the man, before turning to drag our bin back up to the house. 

Would that the story ended there... Alas, we found a few mouse calling cards today under the couch. On our family puzzle, actually, which we keep on a giant drip pan under the couch and slide it out on slow days like today. I binned the puzzle, sterilized the area, and then gosh darn it, while preparing Thanksgiving dinner I discovered further evidence in the kitchen. I don't know that anything has ever brought me so quickly to the brink of panic as discovering mouse leavings in our cupboard.

Which is why I am thankful for stores that are open on Thanksgiving. Multiple mouse traps have been purchased (and the turkey bag - I always forget to get the turkey bag) and hidden about the house. The workers at Walmart have been fervently thanked - I'm so grateful for employees that keep the store running so a person can make emergency mouse trap runs when need be. Because of them, I was able to finish a simple Thanksgiving dinner (we had planned on gathering with friends but are continuing our tradition of being sick on Thanksgiving, so home we stay) and relax in the knowledge that those little varmints are going down.

Happy Thanksgiving!

PS: Lil Bet is the only one dressed up because I bought this dress back when I was pregnant with Henry, before we found out he was a boy. Well, I now happen to have a girl baby, years later, that happens to fit it, so gosh darn it she's going to wear it. Nevermind if the rest of us look like hoodlums.

Fall...ing in love, with winter

 Fall, you beautiful beast you. We've had a tremendous fall. The weather has been charmingly unpredictable, with snow on one exciting Sunday early in October, and then we had a balmy 65 degrees to Trick or Treat in on Halloween. We made time for certain beloved fall activities (apple picking, leaf raking, family pictures) and skipped some of the good/not best ones (ahem, school Halloween dance).

This morning it was 7 degrees when we woke up and scraped frost off our window (the one with the poor casing, obviously...). Seven. De. Grees. That is cold, friends. It's past the point of flexibility with your toddlers winter wear: sorry, H - your wearing your coat whether you like it or not. At twenty degrees, I'll let him walk outside sans coat because he then will cooperate getting into it. But at 7... nah, son - coats go on before we open the door.  But be ye not dismayed: there is no bad weather, only bad clothing for the weather. At least, that's what Bishop Foster told us when we first moved to MN 6 years ago. He's mostly right. A down coat goes a long way in a frigid tree-lighting ceremony or neighborhood hockey match. Pro tip.

6 years! Has it been that long?? I mean, we have moved like, 6 times since then, with various jobs and schooling and whatnot, but the bulk of those years we've been in Minnesota, slowly developing a heartier attitude and aptitude for cold and an extra layer or two of insulating fat stores. Go us! As lovely as MN summers are, with their music in the park and 10,000 lakes and 80+state parks and camping and impressive network of bike trails...despite all that, I think Fall and Winter remain my favorites. They bring out the heartiness of the people, and a deepened sense of community. We're a bunch of vikings, but instead of the violence and plundering, we're lustily digging each others cars out of snow drifts.

And Hygge! The hygge of winter! Candles, books, plaid throws, hot chocolate and rocking chairs, decorations of winter greenery and berries, bread baking in the oven and stew on the stove. The hush on the world that comes with snow, the ruddy cheeks smiling above thick scarves. Boots. Boots. Woolen tights, and boots. People congregating in each others homes to share a meal and pass a long winter evening with a puzzle or a card game, or quietly sitting by the fire and knitting something soft. It is a magical, restful time.

Don't get me wrong - I don't want a Narnia plunged in eternal winter. Part of the charm definitely is knowing that spring and summer will have their turn.

But, Lady Winter: you are a delight.

*Another pro tip: sun lamps to keep you Vitamin D needs happy are very affordable these days: we got ours here
*If you don't love your stew recipe, try this one - you won't regret it
*The kids and I are reading Miracles on Maple Hill, and it is the warmest of warm fuzzies from my childhood. I remember reading that in bed under a quilt in the middle of the day during Christmas break and being swept away. I read through the whole book in a day, only emerging from my room to grab rolls and yoohoo. Funny how certain books have an impact on you, to the point where you can remember the details of the day you first read them, even 25 years later.

*I've said it before but, I really am going to try for a weekly blog post going forward. I love looking back on earlier years and seeing the babies and seeing how our lives have evolved, and I deeply desire to share more regular updates for loved ones who care and wish to be more involved in our lives, many of whom are not on social media (which is where my short, quipy updates go on the day-to-day, for convenience sake). So stay tuned :)