thanksgiving

We hosted our first Thanksgiving this year. At the little house. It was perfect. I would not have changed a minute of the day. I love my house of full people. I inherited this from my mother. She has always loved nothing more than her house full of people she loves. Eating. Drinking wine. Chattering and laughing. In her kitchen (full of lovely cooking smells). In her living room (sinking into a cozy couch). At her table (passing food and wine).

In October, I asked my mom if we could host Thanksgiving. And she generously said "Of course." We decided to challenge ourselves to make a gourmet version of Thanksgiving. No canned green beans this year. At the time, it was going to be a small table. Ben, my parents and me. It was Carlye and Steve's year to go to her parents. And Tim couldn't get steal away from work in Nashville.

Then, Carlye called one day and asked if we could do something we've never done before: combine her family and ours. Which sounded wonderful to me. And that is how we ended up with 10 people (including two nephews) fitted snugly around our dining room table last Thursday. Clarks. Daugirds. Adlards.

It was wonderful.

It was a beautiful fall day: autumnal trees and spring-like weather. We opened the windows, and I wore flip-flops all day. My mom came over early with boxes and baskets full of groceries. My house was full of noise and chatter and laughter all day long. My kitchen was full of good smells. There was champagne and wine on hand.
Carlye's mom handmade menus and placecards for us. We sat out on the back porch in the sun, peeling chestnuts and pearl onions. Ben and the oldest nephew collected acorns for the centerpiece. The youngest nephew had his first tastes of Thanksgiving dinner.

And after dinner, we all went for a walk together before coming back to the house for sweet potato pie and tartlets. We put a pot of coffee on and filled the teapot with hot water for tea. And we ended the day - full, happy and thankful for our first Thanksgiving at the little house.