Thanksgiving day is a poem. The crust of the day still buttery rich and crumbly, much like the pie. Sweetness of cranberry and richness of turkey make up the first stanza; their lines surrounded by the expanse of the sky wide in the world and the bareness of the earth, stretching for miles the land's bare bones. The day itself was an onomatopoeia -- twenty four hours to give thanks, a villanelle. Two tercets made up the morning, floury hands and the Thanksgiving day parade and the tumble of littles getting ready. The remaining three were made up of the drive to grandma's house, watching the world as it prepared for snow, the heartiness of Thanksgiving lunch, and the rest of the day, enveloped in grace. And much much pie.
Villanelles rely on repetitions, and the day was rich with them. Unexpected snow was the surprise, an additional phrase in the last quatrain, one last simile that stayed long after the metaphors had been relegated to memories. And we gathered in the kitchen, both sets of my grandparents, aunts, uncle, cousins, siblings, and watched the snow fall outside the window. You know when something really wonderful happens, and you cannot stop exclaiming? That's how it was. It felt, cliche and cheesy enough to say, like a little piece of Christmas magic, and it truly was the most wonderful way to end Thanksgiving day. It was the icing on the cake, or more appropriately, the cool whip atop the pumpkin pie. There are some things I am picky about and one of them is the necessity of cool whip (yes, cool whip. my kinfolk heart protests but tradition is more important), as well as the canned cranberries.
I admit it, I am a sucker for the simple and a lover of traditions passed down year after year, much better than old sweaters. There's no holes in the sleeves or stains on the front and they smell like cloves and cinnamon, but like old sweaters, they fit just right. This is a very small story, a few phrases and photos, of our Thanksgiving. I had hopes to document the entire day but found myself putting down the camera to play games, to eat just one more slice of pie, to play piano and sing with my mom, to simply be present. And that is as it should be. Learning when to shoot and when to just be is important, and something I want to get better at.
Happy Wednesday, friends! And if you have a moment, I would love it if you'd stop by my website (www.imhannahnicole.com). I launched it yesterday and I'm so excited about it. I've been truly blessed and grateful for the outpouring of love and kindness I've received from it's birth, and I just want to say a hearty thanks to all of you. I'd have you all over for pie if I could, and would set the table with all of your favorites -- pumpkins, pecans, apples, berries, chocolates, meringues, cherries, all the best.
Much love, h.
Villanelles rely on repetitions, and the day was rich with them. Unexpected snow was the surprise, an additional phrase in the last quatrain, one last simile that stayed long after the metaphors had been relegated to memories. And we gathered in the kitchen, both sets of my grandparents, aunts, uncle, cousins, siblings, and watched the snow fall outside the window. You know when something really wonderful happens, and you cannot stop exclaiming? That's how it was. It felt, cliche and cheesy enough to say, like a little piece of Christmas magic, and it truly was the most wonderful way to end Thanksgiving day. It was the icing on the cake, or more appropriately, the cool whip atop the pumpkin pie. There are some things I am picky about and one of them is the necessity of cool whip (yes, cool whip. my kinfolk heart protests but tradition is more important), as well as the canned cranberries.
I admit it, I am a sucker for the simple and a lover of traditions passed down year after year, much better than old sweaters. There's no holes in the sleeves or stains on the front and they smell like cloves and cinnamon, but like old sweaters, they fit just right. This is a very small story, a few phrases and photos, of our Thanksgiving. I had hopes to document the entire day but found myself putting down the camera to play games, to eat just one more slice of pie, to play piano and sing with my mom, to simply be present. And that is as it should be. Learning when to shoot and when to just be is important, and something I want to get better at.
Happy Wednesday, friends! And if you have a moment, I would love it if you'd stop by my website (www.imhannahnicole.com). I launched it yesterday and I'm so excited about it. I've been truly blessed and grateful for the outpouring of love and kindness I've received from it's birth, and I just want to say a hearty thanks to all of you. I'd have you all over for pie if I could, and would set the table with all of your favorites -- pumpkins, pecans, apples, berries, chocolates, meringues, cherries, all the best.
Much love, h.
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