Turkey and stuffing and pie, oh my. . .

I'm sitting amidst dishes to be done, bills to be paid, soup to be put together, as my house guests board planes in far cities. Thanksgiving she is a comin'. My turkey is in Winston-Salem, cold and mute. I will go get her/him tomorrow afternoon, along with the probably typical shopping list of ingredients: local sausage for the stuffing, heavy cream, pearl onions. Instead of the usual family coming here, it will be adopted orphans, friends whose families live too far for a heavily traveled weekend jaunt. These friends are foodies, like we are, so the football promises to be seriously influenced by the baking, the sauteeing, the roasting. Lovely.
In North Carolina, November weather usually means we can walk in the woods as well as sit by the fire. Thanksgiving morning, we will take freshly roasted coffee and a warm cinnamon brioche down to the creek, weather permitting, a change of scene for our urban Californians.
I am also hoping that son Eamon will show me how to use the digital camera, and how to load pictures here, so I can document these blessings that fill me so.
And. . .for the first time, we will video chat on Wednesday with friend and fellow foodie Doris, as we prepare for the holiday in our separate kitchens. Then on Thursday, by the same means, share Thanksgiving with sister Laura. Incredible. . .Maybe we can do the same with brother Jim, we'll see if he's equipped.
Friday, we load up re-constructed leftovers and head out early for Tennessee, there to meet brother John at Mom's and have Thanksgiving, The Return. Pray for the thighs. We do have two workouts scheduled at the gym: one for the girls on Tuesday with Bridget the Terrible; then Wednesday night the guys with John's trainer, Jeff the Fierce. So we're making a token stab at it, but in the face of pumpkin cheesecake, sausage stuffing with gravy, homemade rolls with Irish butter, toasted pecan pie. . .well, you see which way this is "weighted," heavily toward elastic waistbands and stretchy pants. I'm sitting in my smaller jeans right this minute, perhaps as a farewell gesture.
I really do need to get the dishes done and the soup made. They really are going to be here soon. . .More later!