Still posting

Quick NaNo and NaBlo statistic: The month is 66.66667% complete.

We're going to have a nice Thanksgiving this year. We have a few friends who are "orphans" this year. One set is a father and eight-year-old son from church; the mom/wife just took a new job in a different state and moved last week. She was planning to return for Thanksgiving but it's not cost-effective. The father is a former chef, so that works out well for a potluck. Since they're packing to move in December, we decided it was easier to host at our house.

And then I saw an email from other friends from church who decided to stay nearby for the holiday because her grandmother's health is failing, so they anticipate needing to travel at a moment's notice. Since we all like each other, and since really, Thanksgiving is so much more fun with a crowd, I emailed them and invited them over.

Years ago, when Craig and I were still newlyweds and he managed a video store, we had lots of single friends who didn't have family in Memphis. And there was a really great Thanksgiving dinner we hosted of all our "orphan" friends. We were both vegetarian back then, so there was no turkey; instead, I made something out of "it's not turkey" (not its real name, but close enough), dressing, and puff pastry. (It was okay...looked good...and was an amazing array of carbs.) And much, much, much wine was consumed. The photos I took of the evening are a little cringe-worthy. It was the early 1990's. Our outfits and glasses were, well, a little larger-than-life, I suppose. And Craig was in his long hair and goatee phase, which wasn't his greatest look. (He's definitely aged gracefully. Gets cuter by the minute, if you ask me.)

Bad hair and big glasses notwithstanding, it was a great night. Our friends enjoyed the food, we all enjoyed the company, and the photos remind me sufficiently of the happy memories that I forget to cringe at the gigantic Cosby sweater my husband was wearing.

And this Thanksgiving is another opportunity to make memories. Memories with a family who will be leaving the fold soon, but also with one who has no plans to leave (or at least none that they've shared with us). And one day, years from now, we'll cringe at our hair and clothes, but we'll smile when we remember the jokes and stories. At least that's how I'm writing it.