be personal / diys

Be…. Thankful.

Last week,  it was Thanksgiving.  Mr D and I, decided we were thankful. So we had a special kind of Sunday dinner. Here’s the tale….

“Thank you for being.” {seneca greeting}

I have lots to be thankful for this year, my wee house, be eventful, Mr D and I’s w-day plans, my best friends pregnancy,  my new work-bench in the dookit (which i will show you in another blog), and all my favourite usual things.. like… the mum, the sister and Mr M and the kids, the big big sisters and their families, and Mr D himself.

So, with a love of all things American, Mr D suggested having a thanksgiving dinner. And so.. we did. 5 of his nearest friends, and us.  There was turkey, there was yams (yup yams), there was sprouts & cranberry sauce, there was squash soup, there was chocolate cake a la Claire, there was even homemade pumpkin pie (its an odd thing). Our tiny little abode was crammed full of American beer and bourbon ( some wine & fizzy & cider too woops), some tunes fit for a good ol’ hoedown and my crafty self spent evenings fashioning America flag style pom poms to hang.

Sunday came along with an 8:30am start for me, a lot of peeling chopping and finger-crossing, some strange concoctions, some stressy moments between me and mr D, some furniture moving and a patio covered in pots and pans of soup and veg (yup our house is THAT small, and so is our fridge). 2 o clock arrives along with some cheery thanksgiving-ers with arms foo of boozy things and plants and bread and cigarettes. Its good.

A 2 second tour of our house (thats all it takes), some beers opened, chair arranging and pom pom admiring and our Thanksgiving Sunday dinner had began. Lack of photos due to little me running up and down stairs, with platters of food whilst Mr D drank beer and, hmm hmm, entertained the guests. (He is a good good cook…. but a lovely lazy man.) AH it all looked lovely jubbly,  table under a pompom,  grub  served on our vintage plates and china, gravy in a teapot and yams in our vegetable urn.  Plates on laps, sprouts rolling on floors, napkin passing and gravy spilling and the mistaken identity of the cranberry sauce, as jam…. all made for a perfect wee crowded dinner party.  

And we were thankful.

Claire@Be x

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