Most years my third brother and his wife host our family Thanksgiving. My brother is on the faculty at Johnson Bible College, which is about 20 minutes away from us, and as faculty they are requested to live on campus. I think it would be a fabulous place to live. For their kids (the ones left at home are now 11 and 15), the campus is their gigantic backyard. They are free to roam about in a wonderfully safe and nurturing environment. Anyway, that has nothing to do with our Thanksgiving except that I always enjoy going there and imagining what life would be like there. I pretty much do that wherever we go. It has nothing to do with being discontent; I absolutely love where we live. There's just this part of me that always wonders what life might be like somewhere else--in New York City, on a midwestern farm, or just 20 minutes down the road.
Before we went to my brother's, we made 3 pies and 10 lbs. of mashed potatoes. This year we got wild and tried The Pioneer Woman's Delicious, Creamy Mashed Potatoes. They are truly amazing. I would have been perfectly happy just eating an entire plate of these potatoes for dinner. Everyone else brings all sorts of other traditional Thanksgiving foods, and we eat.
After eating comes football watching while digesting and then a rousing hour of basketball. During all of those sports-related activities, I generally pick the people who look least likely to want to be energetic and hang out with them. On comfortable chairs with a pot of coffee nearby.
And while all this ping-ponging and card-playing is going on, there is constant background music.
And that brings me to the final essential: family. I have a great family. They make me laugh a lot. My three nieces and my oldest nephew have always felt more like siblings to me, and it is so fun to watch them be grown-ups. Or at least sort of grown-ups.