Home Again

It was the Thanksgiving I needed--quiet and mostly sleepfilled, with a bit of beach thrown in. We picked up a friend then drove up to Mom's late Wednesday night. Started cooking Thursday morning, took a walk on the beach--it was windy but lovely and clear-skied, the winter storms had started so lots of driftwood was piled up in the sand, tree trunks and tangles of seaweed rocking in the foamy surf. A couple of live seals peeking at us from the lagoon, and a dead one sprawled in the sand, washed up near the river mouth. My stepdad always brings an empty pack along for trash and the occasional treasure, and he observed several times that the beach was the cleanest he'd seen it, though his pack was full when we left.

It's a long hike through the dunes to get to this beach, and on the way back I made a detour to see the small shrine to the boy who killed himself there earlier this year. It was in a place where the dunes flatten out and not much sea grass grows. There was a blackened potted plant, a clutch of lavender stalks, and a bouquet of flowers that looked just a bit wilted, as though someone had laid them there just that morning. There was also a large Mason jar filled with letters in Ziploc baggies. It was very sad, but it also made me thankful, for my life and for loved ones who are still with me.

Back at Mom's, Thanksgiving was indeed a feast. M cooked the turkey according to directions from his grill master friend, and it apparently came out well--and the 20-pound bird cooked in just over two hours! That surprised us all. The one culinary anomaly--no stuffing this year. But no one missed it.

The rest of our visit was similar--eating, chatting, sitting by the fire, sleeping late, Food Network, admiring the fine weather and how well Mom's pottery is coming along. We met friends for a walk on the beach Friday afternoon. I did forget to look at the stars, which are so bright and numerous up on the coast, and I do regret that.

Saturday we returned home. The weather darkened, and M went out foraging for movies (Cars, Prairie Home Companion), milk, and Chinese food. The rain came today. The Cyclone fence is finished behind the house, and it looks horrible, prison-like. Definitely suffering from Sunday blues, I tried to shake it off by shopping today, but my heart just wasn't in it and I felt disoriented. I did make a checkerboard cake for a friend at work tomorrow. It looks pretty, but once again I suspect my baking bane--overbaking--will haunt me. Thank FSM for "The Far Side of the World"--nothing like listening to how two British naval officers fall overboard near the Galapagos and are later picked up by a double-hulled vessel manned by Polynesian women to lift one's spirits.

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Thanks to everyone for the hearty endorsements of "A Suitable Boy"--it's moved from dresser pile to nightstand pile.

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I have such a good husband. This Thanksgiving marked a dozen years of going steady, and the night before we left for our Thanksgiving trip, he brought home a spa kit that he purchased from a nice Israeli lady who has a cart at the local mall. He showed me how to buff my nails (I'm trying to keep my nails longer and my hands softer--I wash my hands a lot and it shows), and I used the facial scrub that night--it's a chemical scrub rather than a gritty exfoliant, and my forehead felt a little hot for a bit too long, but I'm looking forward to trying the other unguents. But the best gift was later that night, when he told me to feel under my pillow…he had also picked out a lovely sapphire ring, my birthstone. Another compelling reason to keep my hands pretty.