Thanksgiving Day

Jingle bells, jingle all the way." I heard once upon a time that Jingle Bells was actually a Thanksgiving song...my dad was likely the informant. He's generally spot on regarding strange trivia and so I believe him. I also wouldn't put it past him to try to pull one over on me so don't use that as trivia at your next family gathering.

I spent the morning driving myself and a lovely pumpkin cheesecake to spend the day with family and friends. Much food was consumed and much thanks was given. I also attended a Thanksgiving showing at the local "cheap" theater of "Julie and Julia"...perhaps the inspiration of this evenings blog? It was a good movie, glad I went, glad I waited for the cheap theater.

As I pulled into my driveway my neighbors (aka my parents) had their Christmas Lights in full lit perfection of bright white lights outlining their home, each window, and each rung on the deck. As I drove closer to my home (which my dad was kind enough to switch my lights on earlier) I couldn't help laugh a little at the distinct comparison of my little awkward house also with white lights outlining its frame and a somewhat pathetic lit wreath strategically placed in an attempt to draw one's eye away from the more ugly side of my house.

You see, my home is the house that my dad and his siblings grew up in. It is not a new house...well, some of it is "newer" and in the form of a flat roofed edition. Exactly one year ago my mom and I came to tour the house that had been abandoned for nearly five years to size it up in the event that I should move there if I got the job that I hadn't even scored an interview yet. As we walked in the house an aroma of old house, old lady, and simple neglect of cleaning through the years overwhelmed me. I'm quite certain at some point a tear was shed at the realization that I would either need to move in with my parents *gulp* or an apartment. I could have NEVER predicted a year later I would be living in it w/ no hint of a (former) aroma and perfectly happy and content.

All these memories went through my mind as I entered my home this lovely thanksgiving eve to quickly leash my girl for our evening walk. As Olive and I meandered the farm in no particular way we both noticed the cows staring at us a little more strangely than what is typical. We tentatively walked closer in the dark with my not so bright purple waterproof flashlight circa 1989. As we closed in on the gate there was a definitive issue. There was a heifer stuck on her side moaning in with pain...or annoyance? (don't ask me questions about this, I don't know why, I don't know how, she was just stuck). I called my dad.

Me: Dad there's something wrong I don't think the cow can get up.
Dad: Oh, they lay down sometimes. (please don't make me leave my warm house)
Me: No, there's something wrong, she's moaning. (please believe your not so farmtastic daughter!)
Dad: I'll come Check. (silly girl)
Me: (whew)

He came quickly and Olive and I watched and attempted to aide in the hoopla by shining our pathetically dim glow in my dad's direction. A tractor was needed for the fix (to push her up...of course!) and that was that. What would they do without me?! "Oh what fun it is to ride in a one horse open sleigh!"