Thanksgiving!
Oh man, is this ever the right year for it or what? We survived yet another long period of unemployment for me and fell in love all over again. What more can be said? I'll write about it, but not here.
The family life is not a big deal this year, and for people like us, those looking at the sunset, that's fine. We do family in small quantities anymore, and often the family consists of those whom we meet from time to time, from place to place. It's very lovely and nice.
Did it different this time around. Most of the cooking is finished and simply needs warming up, kind of doing leftovers on the Turkey Day instead of all fresh, and we're thinking that's better, less pressure self-imposed, pre-aged for that adult flavor. A nod to our mothers.
The meat is domesticated duck, fully thawed and marinated in a special (that is, improvised) orange sauce that has no recipe and will never be recreated. It's going into the smoker that I'm about to light and watch over as it heats, a barrel-styled thing ala Memphis in May. It was once black, now aged to gray.
It's warm, very warm for this time of year and distance to the sky. The woods are quiet and calm, a fine day to cook outside while Lydia enjoys the comfort of the big wooden tent.
What am I thankful for? Everything, including the hard times. Love grows in that garden.
Special thanks to Jaime, Mike and all the good people (which means every single one of you) who participate on AD. You are all also part of this strange and delightful family, like it or not
Let's not get too tearful here. It's still early. I'm looking forward to heavy brews and bumps of cheap bourbon this afternoon, a sleepy-eyed football game or two, an irritating phone call from my last remaining brother that will take days or weeks to get over (maybe he'll forget this year), and possibly some sort of crisis regarding the grandkid, who has entered her puberty years.
Ah life. It's good that we have a day to reflect, be grateful and maybe spar with our old opponents whom we love with all our hearts. Then there's the football and beer . . . there really must be a God.