My guests are making their way home, packets of leftovers in hand, and after twelve straight hours of dancing my well-choreographed Thanksgiving dance, I can finally sit. My swollen, injured foot up, throbbing.
My hands still smell of butter, rosemary and sage. They smell pretty wonderful.
I danced all day on about five hours of sleep last night, and on five the night before. Needless to say I am spent. And I can hardly think.
Hope you all had a wonderful, delicious, thankful day.
Tomorrow we’ll be up bright and early in pursuit of the perfect frasier fir.