My Thanksgiving was a little hectic. Heh, a little.
Poor dear Mum was dreadfully ill thanks to a new prescription with "possible strong side affects". Possible? Are you kidding me??
Anyway, the short version is that for the day before Thanksgiving, Mum was confined to her bed and could only have dry bits of toast and weak tea. So it was up to me to prepare Thanksgiving dinner for eleven people. (can you see where this is going?)
The pie crusts (bane of my existence!!) put up a stout fight, refusing to fit the pans correctly and tearing when stretched. But I over came and filled them with the purée of my other enemies, Pumpkin, Pecan, and the easily surrendering (canned) Cherry fillings.
I burned the crusts (surprise!) and I didn't melt the butter for the pecan filling quite right, so some people may of may not have had sudden bursts of butter (hurray!).
I had to get creative with the cherry's crust as I had not made a double crust or 'lid' for it. Fruit pies generally need these to disguise the ugliness that occurs when the fruit is baked and turns kinda squishy and a not-quite appetizing color. Or that's my theory anyway. (Baking to me is like philosophy: I don't even try to understand it.)
So what was I to do? Well, I scrounged and scraped together the very last scraps of dough, rolled it out in a pathetic little mat, and cut out an equally pathetic tic-tac-toe pattern that more or less did little to hide the after-baked cherry ugliness. Everyone told me it was good, though, and who was I to argue? it was canned filling so there wasn't much I could do to ruin it. Besides burning the crust.
The rest of the baking and cooking went miraculously well, and I don't recall having any real major cancel-the-dinnerparty! crisis. But then, I don't remember a lot of Thanksgiving Day, so perhaps I have amnesia. Mum was well enough by then to help me with some of the bigger dishes that required miles more experience than I'll ever have.
This year we invited our sort-of 'adopted' grandparents and our neighbors and had a grand time stuffing ourselves to the usual Holiday benchmark.
LB and I made these little owl-creature-things for the centerpiece the night before and I also took several hours of my life to make stenciled and embossed place cards. The owls on the other hand might as well be called the lazy man's craft. Because seriously, if you have pinecones, cotton balls, and some basic craft supplies, you have these weird and cute little birds.
Back home my second biggest sister came out and I had a lovely birthday dinner of steak and baked sweet potatoes with marshmallows (and an obscene amount of sugar, cinnamon, and butter), and a two layer cake baked by LB.
My family was amazing with the gifts this year, too, checking several things of my wish list :) Like a headstall (one that can fit Piggy's odd sized head at last!), music, books, an awesome camera bag for Jack (THANK YOU, Biggest Sister!), an I (heart) (heart) Doctor Who t-shirt from LB, and a new camera lens! I'm over the moon for my 55-250mm! To see the product of this new lens (below being just one of them) click here.
I spent some of my music money on tPotO soundtrack and while listening today was slapped up-side the head with the perfect lyrics from my favorite from the track, Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again. And since written words never do the actual music justice, here's a link to hear it yourself.
Wishing I could hear your voice again
Knowing that I never would
Dreaming of you won't help me to do
All that you dreamed I could
Passing bells and sculpted angels
Cold and monumental seem, for you the wrong companions
You were warm and gentle
Too many years fighting back tears
Why can't the past just die?
Wishing you were somehow here again
Knowing we must say, "Goodbye"
Try to forgive, teach me to live
Give me the strength to try
No more memories, no more silent tears
No more gazing across the wasted years
Help me say, "Goodbye"
Help me say, "Goodbye"This will fit Cilla so well by the end of book one. I'm trying so hard to convey her struggle with her traumatic past that to have her practically sing how she finally faces up to it and finish her arc (for book one) and at the same time write the end scene is.... unbelievable. This is the kind of rare gem that makes writing worth it. There's a lot of blood, sweat, and tears in writing, as many of you know; it's never a picnic or a 'hobby'. So to have a song or picture impact you, perfect almost in every way for the situation, that practically writes itself, is an absolute dream come true. You can't ask for much more as a writer.
And now I really must close. Kudos to every/anyone who read the whole thing!