Counting my blessings

Oh sweet heavenly ham. It’s nearly Thanksgiving! I’ve got an 18 pound bird soaking in a vat of apple cider brine, a few pounds of fresh cranberries, four boxes of cornbread mix, and a ton of winter squash hanging out, just waiting to become a glorious feast. I am one of those people who just look for an opportunity to host a dinner party–give me a reason to become Julia Childs, and I morph into the hostess with the mostest. I love to cook almost as much as I love to ride, and thankfully, I’m pretty darn good at it.

This year my parents are making the 9.5 hour drive down to visit, and I’m preparing for them like the Royal family is on their way. The apartment is clean, and I’ve prepped a meal plan that would make Tyler Florence proud. Yes, it’s safe to say, this is my favorite time of the year. Last year we hosted three families and their kids for the big meal, and I cooked so much we had leftovers after serving 15 people. I’d like to say I’ve scaled it down for just the five of us, but really I haven’t. I mean, an 18 pound turkey for five? I’m already looking for creative ways to re-serve the leftover bird.

This is also the time, though, that I count my blessings, and just like every year, I’ve got plenty to keep me counting. We have been so fortunate: Ryan came home safely from a deployment a little over a year ago, Carson’s leg healed just fine after a scary break, and we’ve got a roof over our heads and plenty to eat. I am truly thankful for all our fortune.


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