Okay, so I know. Thanksgiving was so last week, right? But I’m going to post about it today, because in spite of my sneaky scheduled postings, I was away from the internet for five whole days, and I simply must share our Thanksgiving with you.
Art and I have celebrated eleven Thanksgivings together, and we have celebrated them all over the place– at my parents’, at his parents’, at our home, in restaurants, and even at camp.
That’s where we were last week. We loaded up the van and my parents’ car and drove into the middle of Nowhere, Nebraska to celebrate Thanksgiving.
It was awesome.
We stayed in a double-wide trailer with a loud furnace, a strange-smelling dishwasher, no internet access, and a plague of Asian lady beetles and we had a wonderful time.
I’m pretty sure that on Wednesday I never changed out of my pajamas, and I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the only one.
We read books (weird hat optional).
We played games (pajama pants optional, but highly recommended).
We laughed hysterically.
We didn’t have fancy dishes, just plastic camp plates.
And we barely fit around the little table (photo by my dad).
But we had food, and lots of it.
And a cozy fire to sit near.
Our Black Friday shopping was me and Mom picking up eggs and band-aids at the grocery store in town.
Who needs an early morning at the mall when you can enjoy an afternoon wandering in the woods?
She had so many layers on she could barely bend.
But an inability to bend did not keep her from wrapping Grandma around her finger.
Not a sales event in sight.
Only the coolest kids get to play mini golf on Black Friday. He got a hole in one on his first try, too. This kid is the luckiest kid I know. One night we played Uno and he won three out of four games.
Saturday brought more hiking. . .
. . . and more discoveries . . .
. . . and more exploring . . .
. . . and having fun.
And it brought a birthday celebration, complete with the requisite pajama pants.
Although I am still thirty-one for a few more days, thankyouverymuch.
The boys played Battleship and Squeezy got in some snuggle time.
Bubs made a new friend,
and Stinky proved himself an expert rocket launcher,
and we took many pictures
of questionable quality.
And a few of great beauty (photo by my dad):
My big regret from the weekend is that this is the only picture I have of Squeezy and my dad, because the one thing we heard the most all week was “It’s a PAPA!” Someone loves her Grandpa.
My grandmother was diagnosed with leukemia this year. My dad had back surgery from which he is still recovering. My husband’s stepmother had major surgery and has struggled to recover, and his grandfather has been seriously ill of late. This year has not been easy. My daughter got glasses at ten months old, and my son got bifocals at seven. Money has been tight, emotions have run high, life has changed dramatically. People I love have hurt desperately, and I have hurt for it.
But God is good, and He gives us times for gratitude and for rest and for remembering mercies new every morning.
And so in everything– and in every season– we give thanks.