Posted on | November 19, 2013 | 2 Comments
Around here we refuse to celebrate Christmas early. Because we think Thanksgiving counts, too. And because my kids in year round school get 3 weeks off in December so if we start doing all the fun stuff in November then I am screwed the kids are bored during break.
So we take time for Thanksgiving. We hang the Thanksgiving wreaths.
We put out a cornucopia filled with leaves and pine cones and gourds from the garden.
Gourds that we switch out when they get moldy or rotten. Or when we notice the smell. Hey, pumpkin spice might mean Thanksgiving to you. For us, it’s the smell of rotting gourds. Because we’re authentic like that.
The wall of thanks goes up. And the kids get busy jotting down all the things they are thankful for.
For the record so far, the dogs got 4 mentions each while The Other Half and I only got 1. By the only child smart enough to realize I can recognize all their handwriting.
We start planning Thanksgiving dinner around the greens growing in the garden. Like creamed spinach.
Cooked in bacon fat, of course.
While the weather is still nice, we get outside and celebrate fall activities.
Like raking the leaves.
And raking the leaves.
And raking more leaves.
Interspersed with football games,
and swinging in the woods.
Plus a visit to the local chestnut farm after the harvest is done.
For an historic home tour,
a hay ride through the orchard,
a bouncy house,
and, of course, chestnuts roasting over an open fire.
Wait a minute!!!
Chestnuts roasting on an open fire??!!!!
Very tricky, Christmas.
Oh, yeah. And that begging-to-go-on-the-family-Christmas-card-perfect-photo in the orchard.
Well played, Christmas. Well played.