My thanksgiving is perpetual, Henry David Thoreau.

The girls and I went to Jamba Juice this morning where we learned that our favorite Jamba Juice employee’s parents live less than five minutes away from us. From there we went to the store for bread, to another store for fresh flowers, veggie burgers, chestnuts, and my mom (she met us there), and then back to the house to make tomorrow’s pumpkin pies. As we baked, it started to snow, and suddenly it felt like a perfect day.

To solidify the perfect day, this evening we met up with my sister and her family to celebrate my brother-in-law’s birthday. Despite what you might think, my favorite part of dinner was not the baked potato and asparagus. (It never is.) It was sitting next to my 17-year-old nephew who is The Wittiest.

After heading home, I finished knitting a baby hat and am now getting ready to go to bed because we’re hosting Thanksgiving tomorrow. (We’ve never hosted anything before, so this is huge, although it’s not REALLY huge.) On the menu is turkey and acorn squash bread pudding and cranberry salad and green bean casserole and mashed potatoes and dressing and corn and sweet potatoes and rolls and salad and pumpkin pie and apple tarts. (The only thing I’m responsible for is the green bean casserole.) We are so lucky.

I hope tomorrow is a good day for you. I know quite a few people who have experienced (and who are experiencing) a lot of sadness and loss this year, and I know the holidays can be so hard. Please know that if you were here, I would offer up a metaphorical hug in the form of acorn squash bread pudding. (I’m no hugger, but I can definitely serve up the pudding. (My sister makes it, and it’s my favorite.))

Happy Thanksgiving to All.

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