There is a bite to the air now. Just a little sting in the breeze; it is frozen Artic air, trying to creep southwards, and wash winter over us.
I'm busy, unloading the minivan, carrying groceries and supplies in to the house. I don't "do" Black Friday, that uniquely American tradition of frenzied post-Thanksgiving consumerism; once upon a time I was a retail manager, and saw quite enough of the madness first hand. I am stocking up for Thanksgiving, and the long weekend ahead. Now I won't go back into the stores until Monday.
The wind thinks it is teasing me. It nips at my ankles, and as I straighten up to carry another load into the house, it slides down the back of my neck, dribbling cold air down my spine. I shiver involuntarily, and hurry back towards the warm, golden light that spills from the doorway.
My kitchen is literally in the center of our house. It isn't very large, and I wish I had more storage, but it is cozy, and cheerful. Now it is the repository for my latest shopping expedition, and there are bags and boxes stacked on the counters and the floor. To the uninitiated, it might appear chaotic, however it is not long before everything is put away.
The darkness sneaks in earlier these days, and the wind continues to blow outside. Where it cuts around the corners of the house, it complains, moaning and groaning. It shakes the old pecan trees that my family planted so many years ago, and it sweeps the dry leaves into drifts around the foundation of the house. Inside my kitchen, there is warmth radiating from the oven where my special crustless pumpkin pies are baking. Waiting for their time in the oven is a tray of brownie cupcakes that will be topped with a cream-cheese frosting when they are cooled. The inky night outside the window is colder now, but inside my kitchen the air is sweet and fragrant and comforting.
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. My contributions to the holiday meal are nearly complete; the pies are cooling, the little brownies have been frosted, and the kitchen has been cleaned and tidied. The house is quiet, and for the first time today, I have time to consider the day ahead.
We will drive Two Hours East tomorrow. We will take the desserts I have made; we will go over the river, and through the woods to Grandmother's house. We will spend the day together as a family, and when we come home again tomorrow evening, we will have empty pie pans, and hearts full of memories.
I am thankful for more than can be contained in one mere post. My family, my home, my church, my friends, my country, top the list.
I hope you know, I am thankful for you too. My BlogFriends - most of whom are annonymous, but who are still precious to me. I count your friendship among my many treasures, and as one of the things I am thankful for every day.
Happy Thanksgiving, from my house to yours.