Category: Reflection

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Kitty’s Fruitcake Cookies

Kitty and Randolph always stopped by my grandparents’ house in Blackshear, Georgia on Christmas Day with a big, round, heavy tin of fresh-baked fruitcake cookies. The grownups would sit in the parlor on the antique furniture by the silver tinsel tree and talk and talk and talk, while my brother and I would figure out ways to steal cookies. We didn’t know we weren’t supposed to like fruitcake cookies, so we liked them – and still do. We are among the small percentage of the population who can actually savor a slice of fruitcake with a cup of coffee.

My grandparents were natural social distancers back in the 1970s, but Kitty and Randolph were part of their small circle of friends- close enough to make it past the front door. Kitty was always smiling and laughing, but Randolph was quiet and reserved.

My maternal grandparents lived life unto themselves. They both worked – she in the Sears Catalog department in downtown Waycross, Georgia, and he for Seaboard Coast Line Railroad in Waycross. Both worked hard and came home at the end of the day to each other, their impeccably clean house, and their manicured lawn that they took great weekend pride in landscaping during the warm months. 

Those Christmases, so full of vivid paperdoll and red wagon and Daisy gun and army men and fruitcake memories, come rushing to mind as I sit here in my living room thinking of my early childhood years when we traveled to visit our grandparents in our metallic blue and woodgrain-sided Buick station wagon through the back roads of rural Georgia, my brother and I lying flat on our backs on a quilt in “the way back” (third seat flattened to a bed area, with no seatbelts, of course) looking up at the stars in the clear night as pine tree tops whizzed past. 

My eyes gaze upward to the window over our front door, out to the stars past the pine tree tops, realizing that the years, too, have whizzed past faster than I could have imagined. I’m older now than my grandparents were then, and understand in these years more than ever before how fleeting time truly is. 

And I wonder whether fruitcake-filled Currier and Ives Christmas tins with lids of horses pulling sleighs over snowdrifts out by the old two-story farmhouse are still a thing anywhere. I’d like to steal some cookies and tuck myself away in all the wonder of a silvery tinsel tree, reliving just a few moments of those good old days, hearing Kitty tell stories and coffee cups clink and antique chairs creak as folks laughed, before screens came along and disrupted real human conversation. 

Those were the best days. 

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The Past, Present, and Future

Seven years before she died, my mother joined one of my daughters and me on a girls’ trip to Dahlonega, Georgia. My college roommate makes it an annual tradition to take her own mother and daughters to start the season of Christmas shopping the weekend before Thanksgiving each year, so we met them there that year, staying with them in their favorite Smith House suite overlooking the Dahlonega square. It was a magical time of welcoming the Christmas spirit, eating great food, playing dominoes and cards, reading, sleeping past 6 a.m., lingering over coffee, and shopping for those on our lists.

I’m so grateful for that time we had together. Mom knew something was different, and she suspected Parkinson’s Disease long before her official diagnosis came. Her right thumb trembled endlessly, and she found she grew weaker and felt increasingly exhausted in her daily routine, even with her normal daily tasks. I was glad our room was close to the town square so that she could go back and rest when she felt too tired to walk.

We were downstairs in one of the gift shops when Mom’s eyes lit up. She’d spotted the sale sign on Willow Tree items. I was curious about what she’d wanted from the selection, so I followed her over to the table, where she stood admiring the Nativity set.

She bought that basic Nativity set as my Christmas gift that year and added to it for the next several years, giving me a new part of the collection each year. At the time, I was thankful, but not nearly as grateful for that gift then as I am today. The memory of our time together lives on, and this is one gift that I truly cherish because it marks our trip and takes me right back to the place where she found the joy of giving this to me and building it over time. When I admire these pieces, she is right here with me. In this Nativity, I see the past, present, and future.

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A Slice of Night: From 1:21 to 3:38 to 4:32 a.m

Photo by Leeloo Thefirst on Pexels.com

It’s 3:38 a.m. and since 1:21, 

a crooner has been singing

on repeat in my ear right through the pillow 

It’s the Holiday Season

So hoop-de-do

And hickory dock

and just exactly at 12 o’clock

He’ll be coming down the chimney

coming down the chimney

Coming down the chimney down

And I need this to stop!!! 

Because I need to worry

About the ceiling

And the little piece of plaster that fell 

That Briar tried to replace with

Glue and tape and a broomstick 

On top of a tall ladder but it 

Plunged to the floor and broke

Now we need a spackling job

But there might be moisture 

And we might need a repair

Or black mold might start growing

And take over the whole house

And we would get sick and die

And I need to worry about what might have happened

if he’d fallen off that ladder at his age

And all the whatifs that go with a thing like that 

Like if we want to change where we will be buried because I do NOT want to be buried on the current plan anymore and I asked for my own cemetery way back a year ago in July and it still hasn’t happened and so maybe I’ll get a Christmas cemetery,

I sure hope so,

down by the road under the only hardwoods on this farm, with little iron fence that stays empty until we are all too old to move or talk or breathe anymore, but a cemetery that’s ready at any moment just for the peace of mind

I might be the only woman on the face of this planet who would cry tears of unwept joy opening the gift of a personal cemetery, but I’m dead serious 

I heard a thud and am relieved

It’s a pillow I kicked off the bed and not a dog 

Especially the one who already

Broke a leg before we rescued him

Now he just snuggled closer to me

Those little feet 

Always find the boobs always 

Always always and ouch 

Ouch

He burrows to my feet finally

Thank Goodness

I have the presents but I still need to

Wrap some and remember to get part 2 of the work gift exchange 

And make Little Debbie Christmas tree cake dip – and replace the regular sprinkles with Christmas sprinkles 

And after 2 pairs of Levi’s and a pair of Timberland Boots that I have gotten him again just like for the past at least 8 Christmases 

He says on December 11 before bed

He wants a sound machine because these new fans are too quiet 

They don’t make them like they used to

And I need to gather pine cones for the night tree.

Crisco and birdseeds I already have, and that twine is somewhere maybe even in the toolbox

and I need another newspaper since I used extra newsprint on gift wrapping but now we will for sure need it for the mess after reading the book and honoring the critter tree tradition

And these grandkids will do this. It’s what their father and aunts and I have done since he was little in preK and got the book as a gift from his teacher and it is what I was doing by the driveway when he called to tell me he was planning on popping the question to their mother

this tree we have always done together

But no gingerbread houses, no!! Lord, no! There aren’t enough sprinkles and nerves in this world for that, that’s why I bought them the Lego set last year. They can put that together as their gingerbread house.

We will make cookies. Break and bake sugar cookies with a can of store-bought icing with a tablespoon of Crisco and some cornstarch mixed in with the beaters so the icing will harden and maybe we use the regular sprinkles for that since my granddaughter likes pink, the one who can say she likes pink

I think we can do that and sweep up all the sprinkles 

And I have to be up in an hour getting ready now that it is 4:00 because the conference is an hour away and registration starts at 7:00 so I need to leave here by 6;00 meaning feet on the floor at 5:00 

and help!!! What to wear???

I haven’t even worried about that yet so maybe the gray pants and a black shirt and sweater but my feet will freeze if I can’t wear my regular black boots and they don’t go with those pants and I just don’t want to wear a dress since I have to wear my magnetic work name tag and it looks like it’s lost on a dress so maybe 

….could I get away with jeans? Wouldn’t that just be great to show up in the ripped knee pair? Surely they would take that one picture if I did, the one defining conference picture to go on social media to show all of us working, thinking critically, collaborating, communicating, creating

All the professionals in their pressed slacks and boutique blouses and nametags and me in my ripped jeans and boots and camo shirt and it’s too bad it’s so cold or I could pull out my camo Birkenstocks for that picture and if I were really bold just wear them in the winter with socks to hear Joan Sedita talk about The Writing Rope 

the one supposed to be a random candid where I’m the only one looking straight at the camera like I’m all defiant in my fashion all because I couldn’t sleep and it’s the holiday season 

And hoop-de-do

And hickory dock

And just exactly at 12 o’clock

He’ll be coming down the chimney

Coming down the chimney

Coming down the chimney down

Happy holidays

Happy holidays

While the merry bells keep ringing

Happy holidays

to you

It’s the holiday season

And Santa Claus is coming round

The winter snow is white on the ground

And when old Santa gets into town

He’ll be coming down the chimney down

He’ll be coming down the chimney down

It’s the holiday season

And Santa Claus has got a toy

For every good girl and good little boy

He’s got a great big bundle o’ joy

He’ll be coming down the chimney down

He’ll be coming down the chimney down

He’s got a big fat pack upon his back

And lots of goodies for you and for me

So leave a peppermint stick for old St. Nick

Hanging on the Christmas tree

It’s the holiday season

So hoop-de-do and hickory dock

And don’t forget to hang up your sock

‘Cause just exactly at 12 o’clock

He’ll be coming down the chimney

Coming down the chimney

Coming down the chimney down

Happy holidays

Happy holidays

While the merry bells keep ringing

Happy holidays to you

  • …..and now it’s 4:32
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Allegiance to Gratitude in Braiding Sweetgrass

Photo by Laura James on Pexels.com

Earlier this week, I blogged about the increasing popularity of rage rooms and the owners who are purchasing vintage glassware, antique dishes, and grandma’s oil lamps to be smashed with baseball bats and golf clubs in controlled settings across the nation. They’re scouring estate sales for the dishes that families have gathered around for the last century or two, purchasing what folks can no longer persuade their children or other relatives to use in their own homes, and wearing helmets with eye protection as it’s all beaten to smithereens behind a concrete wall.

This may seem to some like a violent death of memory and sentiment. It may show disrespect to the items being smashed, from the artistry of the design to the materials used to make these things that have long held presence around tables feeding families or that have held oil to light rooms and keep aglow the faces of loved ones centuries ago.

Perhaps, though, the best chance of life these items have is in their recycling – – a reincarnation, of sorts, for things boxed up in darkness, locked away in storage, held hostage as prisoners of uselessness for decades, like the aging adult’s own version of the Island of Misfit Toys with nowhere to go and nothing to do but wait. A rage room may at first seem in direct opposition to the gratitude factor of thankfulness – but is it really any more offensive than attics full of items without purpose, kept that way by those who should value them most and keep their spirits bright?

As I drove to visit a family member having surgery two states north of me last week, I listened to Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants by Robin Wall Kimmerer. The author herself reads the book on Audible, and hearing her voice is almost as pleasant as pausing every few minutes to truly soak in the meaning of her words from a new perspective – – and an important one. Similarly to the way Aldo Leopold reminds us of our duty to be good stewards with a strong land ethic in A Sand County Almanac, Kimmerer reminds us in her chapter “Allegiance to Gratitude” that every single item we eat or use comes at the cost of the life of a plant or animal. As good citizens, we should follow the guidelines for the honorable harvest of consumption, from the wood in our furniture to the food on our plates. Allegiance to gratitude is what begets abundance – not the collecting and storing of items that are not being used, because this disrespects the energy from Mother Earth to produce these things and invokes perceptions of hoarding: get all you can, can all you get, and sit on your can. Taking and using only what is needed is the way to be environmentally responsible for future generations. Having what can be used and fully appreciated cultivates a fuller appreciation of all of our blessings.

Gratitude has been a year-long spotlight word for me – – a goal word. It is fitting that in December, I am reading Kimmerer’s words with a renewed sense of gift giving. This year, we’re practicing a different gift-giving arrangement for my grandchildren. They’ll each receive something they want, something they need, something to wear, and something to read. We’re simplifying, redefining less as more.

We’re cultivating gratitude.

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Saying Goodbye

Photo by Nerosable on Pexels.com

I have family members who have been preparing to open a new business – a Rage Room. If you haven’t heard of these, here’s an article that explains the concept. You take all your anger into a room filled with appliances and glassware and dishes and use a bat or sledgehammer to smash everything all to pieces. These businesses are rising in popularity across the nation – not as a substitute for therapy, but as a way of releasing pent-up anger in a controlled setting.

My relatives were heading to another estate sale last weekend to buy all the china and crystal, lamps, and anything else that’s smashable, including televisions and microwave ovens. It stopped me in my tracks when I considered what some of my other relatives may think about this if they realized that their precious items may be destined to be violently destroyed.

I have other family members with storage rooms. They have been paying monthly rent for years to hold onto items they believe to have value. Unfortunately, the financial profit potential is red – it has been for years, just holding onto things, and it gets redder and redder every month a storage room’s rent is paid. By now, the cost of holding onto these things exceeds having bought them brand new several times. The greatest value that these items will ever hold, at this point, are the memories – – which can be of no value when they are held hostage in storage rooms with little to no regular use. Many haven’t seen the light of day in years, and are either in non-climate controlled storage slowly molding or are waiting their turn to be taken to a landfill.

There seems to be a commonly held belief that if we have something we got a great deal on, we could turn that as profit. And perhaps we could if we found the right buyer and if we sold it at the right time for the right price. But just like the next person, most of us are not buying things at full price. We’re looking for the deal, too.

I feel a heavy burden for a colleague’s mother who’d had a large collection of antiques and memorabilia. She’d checked on eBay and Facebook Marketplace to see what the going rates were for some similar items she’d owned for years and believed what she saw as what some of her items were worth. The sellers who mark items for sale at $12,345.67 using the negotiating strategy or assign their own notions of value to their own items had created a false sense of hope for her retirement dreams. When she died last spring, my colleague and her siblings hired an estate sale company to come in and auction all of the items that had been collected for all those years and held as sacred family artifacts.

The hard and sad truth is that these items held no sentimental meaning or memories for my friend and her siblings. They had purchased all their own furniture and belongings through the years and had all they needed, so there was no space for them to put any of their mother’s sentimental items in their homes. They each chose one small item before the auction, and that is all that remains. The rest may be getting smashed.

For some, the smashing may come as a shock. For others, the release of years of collecting items that now border on hoarding may come as a liberating, sweet goodbye to the memory of loved ones whose belongings had more hold over them than time spent with their loved ones. Whether the items they leave behind are purchased to be used as dishware at Christmas tables with families or whether they are being shattered with baseball bats and golf clubs, one thing is true: they will ultimately be released in some form or another to a new and different life. I’ve heard it put this way: Heaven isn’t lined with U-Hauls.

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Recovering Rituals

I’ve had a few surgeries in my lifetime, starting with a tonsillectomy when I was in kindergarten. We lived in our house on Timmons Street on St. Simons Island, Georgia during this time, and I remember it as clearly as if it were yesterday. The house was white with a royal blue exterior wall in the carport and a 1970s modern-at-the-time artistic architectural barrier wall of cut-out circles that gave a false notion of privacy between the car and the road.

Since we had just moved to the island back in those days, Dad serving as a new pastor with long hair and sideburns looking a little bit like every picture of Jesus I’d ever seen, the members of the church showered us with things for me to do as I recovered. They stopped by and held my baby brother, and they brought ice cream, popsicles, soups, coloring books and new crayons, and books to read. I got spoiled early on to the ideas of what recovery from surgery meant: all the ice cream I wanted, and fun new stuff.

That’s why I began thinking about the silver linings of surgery before I came to be with my adult daughter as she recovers from a tonsillectomy. This isn’t easy surgery – – the older you get, the rougher the recovery. I was even more certain of this when the surgeon appeared from behind the curtain as we awaited the magical hour.

“Are you ready for this?” he asked her.

She had a far more enthusiastic response than either of us was expecting.

“Well, it’s going to suck,” he warned her. “There. I’ve said it. I had this same surgery at your age, and it’s not easy. But it’s worth it. There are healthier days ahead.”

I am a fan of new, young doctors with all the new technologies like the one I had when I broke my foot in 2022, but I took great comfort that this ENT looked older than I am, and I began saying silent prayers of thanks for his level of experience. The good Lord sent comfort on many levels for this mother’s heart as I watched my child being wheeled out to the operating room.

The silver linings and up-sides of surgery include time together, even though we aren’t running around having all kinds of adventures and fun. We’re sharing the sweetness of flattened Coca-Cola so the carbonation doesn’t sting, and we’re having conversations about hopes and dreams.

We’re also knitting hats. I was thinking back on the days when I was young and someone gave me a weaving loom. I must have made a hundred potholders and loved every single project I finished, carefully sorting the colors into piles and counting the numbers I’d need to be coordinated and not all willy-nilly random about weaving just any old colored loop in there.

Years ago, we made a bunch of hats using round looms. I’d passed the looms on to someone else to enjoy once we’d squeezed all our own joy from them, so I stopped in and got some new ones, along with some yarn for the journey. Together, we watched a refresher YouTube video to re-learn how to cast on and cast off, and we started our handiwork.

Oh, the fun of simple time, talking through the hours, sipping apple juice, and creating something that will bring warmth and all the pride of wearing a handmade item. I knitted a baby cap for a new grandchild, and she worked on a hat for herself for the coming colder days.

Somehow, working with her hands has taken her mind off of her throat and given her a different focus. And watching her work has given me a deep peace that everything will, indeed, be better.

Healing is a process that takes time, but togetherness and family time makes it all more bearable.

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Goal Update for November

At the end of each month, (or beginning), I review my yearly goals and spend some time reflecting on how I’m doing in living the life I want to live ~ a way of becoming my own accountability partner and having frequent check-ins to evaluate my progress. I’m still in the process of revising some of my goals as I encounter successes…..and setbacks. New goals have asterisks for the month of December, when I will report on them in a few weeks. For the month of November, here’s my goal reflection:

CategoryGoalsMy Progress
LiteratureRead for Sarah Donovan’s Book Group




Blog Daily




Write a proposal for
my writing group’s book and a proposal for an NCTE presentation for November 2024		I participated in the November book discussion with Sarah’s reading group and look forward to reading January’s book (we skip the month of December)– I Hope This Finds You Well, by Kate Baer. I’ll participate in this book discussion in January 2024.



I continue to blog daily, and the daily writing and reflecting is a wonderful habit for me. I don’t feel complete without some form of daily writing, and the blog is a way of continuing the habit.

My writing group is writing a series of new books, and I will spend time editing the chapters we have written. I will continue to add chapters as we receive feedback from our proposals. We are each sending our proposal out to some publishing companies. I’m also meeting to help write a proposal for the NCTE 2024 Convention in Boston in 2024.
Creativity

*Decorate the house for Christmas




My main December creativity goal is decorating the house for Christmas, since we didn’t decorate at all last year. The grandchildren will be coming to see us, so there must be trees! For the month of November, I spent some time knitting hats and doing some therapy coloring with a daughter recovering from surgery.
SpiritualityTune in to church





Pray!



Keep OLW priority		We have tuned in to church every Sunday in November and will continue doing the same for December. We plan to attend a Christmas Eve service this year as well, with one of our children.

My car is still my prayer chamber for daily prayer, and there’s so much to give thanks for. I continue my conversations with the good Lord each morning and afternoon.

I’m still keeping my OLW my priority: pray!
ReflectionWrite family stories

Spend time tracking goals each month		I have shared family stories through my blog this month and will continue this month to do the same. I’ll participate in an Open Write storytelling event and share a family story out loud!

I’m tracking goals, revising, and considering some new categories as I look at my goal table. I’m already looking at my goals for next year.
Self-Improvement*Reach top of weight rangeThis is a setback for me since April. I’ve hit major stress and gained weight, despite joining WW. I need to set a firm date and get the mental mindset that it takes to stay on track. I have work to do. Update: every day, the diet is starting “tomorrow.” I seriously need a good mindset to start back.
GratitudeDevote blog days to counting blessingsI begin the days this way and end them giving thanks as well. November was full of gratitude and thanksgiving by its sheer celebrations, and I celebrated the birthdays of a grandson and a brother. Taking time to pause and give thanks for people and blessings brings joy and reminders that family is a gift.
ExperienceEmbrace Slow Travel








Focus on the Outdoors


I’ve taken a trip to be with a daughter having surgery in November, and while this was not adventure travel or vacation, we found ways to maximize our togetherness and make the best of a time of recovery. Next month, we will be welcoming visits from family members and visiting some out of state as well.

I’ve joined Project Feeder Watch, since birdwatching is far more comfortable and warm from inside the house. I plan to add two entries per week throughout December, totaling at least one hour per week.
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A Hike Through F. D. Roosevelt State Park

Boo Radley, Ollie, and Fitz hiking the red and white trails of FDR State Park in Georgia. I do not own the rights to this music.

Our time on this Thanksgiving getaway is coming to a close for now, but instead of starting the campsite breakdown as we normally do on the last afternoon of our camping adventures, we took an impromptu hike with the boys on the trails of F. D. Roosevelt State Park in Pine Mountain, Georgia. I’m sharing a video of their tail-wagging joy as Boo Radley, Ollie, and Fitz traversed the terrain.

We met another couple hiking, and the wife observed, “Looks like you have your own sled dog team!” I chuckled because I am always referring to them as our sled dogs. When my sister in law walked them with me this week, she was surprised by how hard they pull. I told her that if there were snow on the ground, we could put on skis and they’d pull us all around the campground. Truth.

Our Georgia State Parks offer different types of clubs for kayakers, canyon climbers, dog walkers, and cyclists. Tails on Trails seems like it would be a healthy challenge for the two humans belonging to these three canine trail enthusiasts for 2024, so already I’m thinking of working it into a yearly goal.

As we sat around the campfire last night, I turned on the green sparkle lights and watched them dancing like tiny fairies in the trees as I reflected on what I loved most about the week- being able to get away and enjoy time in nature with family, spending time with each other and with our dogs, and truly taking time to give thanks for our blessings. Time. Togetherness. Thanksgiving.

These are the parts of the week that meant the most to me.

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Remembering Israel Throughout Hanukkah

I’m a fan of author Tom Ryan. My strongest reading personality is that of a non-fiction reader, where the reading takes me into the lives of people and places I may never meet or see in person. I also like fiction, but I believe that my life has been changed far more from the non-fiction reading I’ve ever done than from the fiction. Tom Ryan’s love of his rescue dog Atticus (a Schnauzer) in his book Following Atticus and his rich descriptions of hiking the White Mountains for a friend who was dying of cancer is just the type of book that grabs my heart.

The first question anyone asks me when I recommend the book is, “Does the dog die?” No, not in the first book. But the friend with cancer does, and Tom hikes and eats a vegetarian diet because he nearly did. Will’s Red Coat was the second book by Tom Ryan, and of course this one holds a few more tears when he adopts an aging rescue dog and brings it to the summit – not just the mountain, but the summit of life itself. And if there were ever a beautiful dog death, Will experienced it.

I shared the books with my friend Jayne, but she’d had to wait a while to read them, since she was on the heels of a dog loss herself and couldn’t face the emotions. After a time of grief, she read them and loved his books so much that she subscribed to his Substack and also gifted me a subscription as well. Now we both follow Tom Ryan on his coddiwomples around the nation when he sets out on adventures with Emily and Samwise. I’m giving the gift subscriptions to the two of us this year – – we both find that his writing soothes us and gives us a sense of joy and peace – especially when he shares his videos.

I was reading a post a couple of days ago that he invited subscribing readers to make public after three days. You can read it here. As I was reading about the support for his Jewish readers by Christian readers who were requesting Hanukkah cards from him this year (he sends them out for certain levels of membership), I came to this sentence: “I’m right there with you, folks, and this non-practicing Irish Catholic will have my electric menorah in my window each night of Hanukkah.” He closed by stating he wasn’t sure whether this would help during such troubling times, but wanted to assure them that they were not alone.

That lit a spark in me, just like those Christmas eve candles that people light from flame to flame down an entire row until the whole church is glowing.

I made a decision right there to join Tom Ryan by doing the same thing. I ordered a menorah with candles that will sit on a table next to our Christmas tree. Let me make it clear that I’m not converting religions. Let me make it equally clear that I’m strong enough in my own religious beliefs that I don’t feel threatened by inviting another religious symbol into my home. That’s not who we are. Our roots of Christianity are firmly attached to Judaism with Abraham at the helm, and my belief system includes Father Abraham and his tribe as a part of the lineage so important to my own Christian roots. My arms and heart are big enough to reach out. We will embrace our Jewish friends, honor their beliefs, and pause to think of them and the injustices that they are suffering.

To set up a menorah with its candles that we will light beginning on December 7 is to embrace an entire culture of people under attack who cannot light their own this year. To light the candle each evening will be to hold sacred moments for innocent people who are under attack by those who are evil, who will never know the peace of a silent night.

I want to thank Tom Ryan for inspiring me to join hands with him and to be reminded that we are, all of us, able to make choices about how we respond to situations. In a world where we can be anything, we should at the very least be kind souls who stand by others, whether we practice their same beliefs or not. After all, I have to believe that Jesus, the King of the Jews, whom we serve, will be tearfully embracing us all as we share in the sorrows of mankind.

Photo by Mikhail Nilov on Pexels.com
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Campground Embers

As I reflect on last night’s campground fire, I reflect back on Thanksgiving yesterday and the month of November with all its blessings, thinking of Gladys Taber’s Stillmeadow Calendar. Her books, many of them, are divided by month and season. To open November, she writes, “Teatime comes early at Stillmeadow now. I hang the kettle over the embers, bring out the toasting fork, and open the sweet-clover honey.”

The campground where we are staying is full. Driving through yesterday, we noticed a few empty spots, but as the evening progressed, campers slowly arrived and set up for Thanksgiving gatherings. It may seem odd that folks would choose to camp on Thanksgiving Day, but many of them may be going to feast with nearby relatives and prefer sleeping in their own space. Some may have dogs and find that travel is so much more affordable with pets when they can bring them along. Others, like us, feel a heightened sense of gratitude when we are close to nature.

So how does someone prepare a Thanskgiving feast at a campground, in the absence of an oven?

It takes a little prior planning, but the key is to keep the menu simple. We were cooking for 6 adults. My sister in law brought banana pudding from our favorite local restaurant, dressing she prepared at home, and a gallon of sweet tea, a half gallon of unsweet tea, and strawberries with dip. At the campground, we prepared the turkey, green bean casserole, rolls, sweet potatoes, macaroni and cheese, and cranberry sauce.

The turkey cooked all night on low. I purchased a Jennie-O Turkey Breast, 8.73 pounds, the largest size that would fit in my crock pot. I inserted a crock pot liner, then washed the turkey and placed it in the pot, skin side up. Next, I added about two cups of bone broth (not chicken stock, but actual bone broth) and then sprinkled half a package of dry ranch dressing mix over the top of the breast. Then, I closed the lid at 7 pm and set it on low to cook all night. We are inside a camper, so we do not have to worry as much about bears.

The turkey cooked all night, filling the camper with the great smell of a forthcoming Thanksgiving feast. Even the dogs could hardly wait!

The rolls and cranberry sauce may have been the easiest sides to prepare: King’s Hawaiian Rolls in a bag, and a can of Ocean Spray Cranberry Sauce did the trick. The sweet potatoes were steamed in the microwave in a bag. I purchased two 1.5 pound bags of Simply Perfect Sweet Steamers, which took 8 minutes per bag. We added a touch of butter, then sprinkled with cinnamon and turbinado sugar. The macaroni and cheese was also prepared in the microwave. We prepared a four-pack of individual microwave tubs and combined them in one bowl.

I brought an extra crock pot for the green bean casserole. Again, I used a crock pot liner and mix the recipe right in the bag, gave it a good stir, and set it on low for two hours starting at 10 a.m. I increased it to medium for the last half hour.

If you’re wondering how we run the microwave simultaneously with two crockpots, we pull extra power off the post outlet. Most campers can’t handle all that power, so we bring an extension cord and run it off the second outlet on the electric post. From there, we set up a small table and and outlet strip for the crock pots to keep doing their thing. This frees up the picnic table for us to gather and eat.

Thanksgiving Day was chilly, but we kept warm in the tent we placed over our picnic table, making our dining room! We used a small space heater to warm the area, and after dinner we moved outdoors to sit around the fire and talk before we had dessert. My sister in law plugged in her electric lap blanket to stay extra warm and snuggled in with one of the dogs.

I reflect on the day and count all of our blessings – family, health, dogs, food, warmth, and each other. And I look forward to closing my eyes and drifting off – the best kind of tired and happy!