This year, our youngest offspring invited two college friends to come home with him for Thanksgiving dinner. It was a pleasant change from the last few years, when the table held only me, Melissa and our two children. Thanksgiving, being a festive occasion based on gratitude, is definitely better celebrated with a larger group.
Another change was our slightly heretical choice to serve a chicken instead of a turkey. This summer, when we harvested the meat chickens, we saved the three largest birds for Thanksgiving. Two went to friends who asked for turkey-sized birds. The other stayed in our freezer. It was a 9.8-pound bird which meant that we could still cook it in the style of a turkey and still have plenty of meat remaining for a few days of the traditional post-feast leftover combinations. Considering the quality of the results and the minor thrill of a successful rebellion, I strongly suspect we will repeat this choice. A homegrown chicken has better meat quality than a store-bought turkey of similar size. It was noticeably more tender and moist than the turkeys of past years.
One of our family traditions is that, since Melissa spends a considerable amount of time preparing the meal, I handle the dishwashing. Our kitchen is small and, in spite of clearly having too much cookware, we always have a curious need for repeated use of the same cookware pieces when we prepare a large meal.
I completed two loads of washing before dinner to keep the work area unobstructed and quickly return the vital cookware for its next round of service. I washed three loads of dishes on Friday. In the image, you can see the second-to-last load of dishes drying in the rack. After that image was captured all that remained was a few pans that needed repeated soaking and scrubbing.
At this time of year, we must also give thanks for the outdoor scenes available. In the main image, you can see that the trees are only lightly frosted, since we haven’t had much cold weather, but snow elegantly drapes their limbs and catches the low-angle light during sunrise and sunset. The contrast between the bluish shadows and the reddish lighted areas is something I always enjoy seeing. When the sky is a clear, intense blue it is like walking through a Maxfield Parrish painting where a common natural composition captures one’s attention with a shift of hue and value.
In the adjacent image you can see the Alaska range to the south of Fairbanks. According to my eldest offspring, the mountains had a nice lavender color and the sky ranged from salmon to rosy pink. The view was quite attractive to my colorblind eyes, but I would never have found the right words to describe it.
My last mention of thanks, fittingly, will be for having a child with proper color perception who is willing to assist me with my writing.
Good that you identify reasons for thanks!
It seems that even in frozen lands, like Fairbanks, there is beauty to be seen in both the land and the people.
Your family members contribute well to a wholesome life.
On to Christmas!