So, two great-grandparents, two grandparents, two parents, two kids and four dogs pile into a fifteen-passenger van for a nine-hour road trip.
Oh wait. That's not a joke. That's my real life.
I may have neglected to mention we were going out of town for Thanksgiving. We headed to the Atlanta area from Central Florida yesterday and are visiting my aunt and uncle for the holiday this year.
Long story short, I am not in charge of table decorating or mashed potatoes or creamed spinach or anything, really.
Except for pumpkin pie. I am always in charge of pumpkin pie because I make a mean pumpkin pie if I do say so m'self.
I am actually that girl. You know - the one that makes pie from real pumpkins? And on Monday night, I called my husband and asked him to absolve me of pumpkin guilt. I just couldn't track down and roast and puree those nice little sugar pumpkins. I actually didn't have time. He did it. I think he crossed himself like a priest and uttered a declaration of absolution.
People, I made my pies tonight with canned pumpkin. If that is not a step in the right direction, when it comes to overcoming my obsessive homemaking ways, I don't know what is.
We're having fun and relaxing and I am knitting like a crazy woman. Because this Thanksgiving, all I am in charge of is knitting and pie. And maybe sleeping in and taking a long bath.
DAILY BLISS: baked apples for breakfast and cardinals in the bird feeder