Day is done

Do you ask why I'm sighing, my son?
You shall inherit what mankind has done.
In a world filled with sorrow and woe
If you ask me why this is so . . .
I really don't know.

3 months

A table for ten, food for more, dinner for 2 (and 1/2).

I cooked my first turkey this year. It did not turn out the way that I had planned. The only upside to making this huge meal, is that I did figure out how to cut exactly 1/2 cup of onion.
This table can fit 10 people. . . but, we only have 4 chairs. Someday I will get around to making the benches that go with it. If you are wondering where I got the awesome table runner from, it's actually vintage obi fabric that I got from the fabulous Lisa.

Food we had:
∞ Roasted turkey with onion & apple stuffing (way overcooked, and didn't enjoy the flavor that putting the turkey in the oven at 425 to "seal in the flavor" yielded)
∞ Homemade rolls (that I accidentally cooked while keeping "warm" on the stove top. . . first place the meal started going downhill)
∞ Mash potatoes (these were good)
∞ Deviled eggs (best part of dinner)
∞ Green bean casserole (Usually so against this sort of thing, but sampled it at Trader Joes and it was delish. . . so I went with it.)
*Pumpkin pie
*Pecan pie (toss up as to which pie was better. I ate both)
Jonathan ate his right up. (This is how the turkey leg came off. . . the bird cooked a bit too long . . . But, was still taken out of the oven an hour before it was "suppose" to.) The meal was much better today. I think because there wasn't as much hype.

Fall Craft Night

A week ago, two weeks ago. . . I honestly don't remember when it was. But, sometime in the past I had some girlfriends from church over and taught a little sewing class on apron making. We had cheese, wine and other scrumptious snacks. Below are the finished products!
Everyone did so well!

By the looks of my blog, November has been the most dull month seen in a while.

It hasn't seemed dull, it's just that most of the things that have happened have to do with Jonathan. . . and despite the fact that he has a facebook account . . . I'm trying not to have his entire life on display on the internet.

Here are some things that he has done:
∞ gone on his first hike
∞ started being interested in toys
∞ gone shopping for his first Christmas ornament
∞ helped mom paint

This week he will also enjoy the first Turkey ever cooked at the Williams house. . . 16 lbs from Trader Joes. We are literally going to have turkey coming out of our ears. (and no, I am not going to give him Turkey)

I have 5 million projects going . . . they just aren't going anywhere fast. Well, at least being a mom has not diminished my ability to start projects. . .

Here are some things that I am currently in the middle of:
∞ Wool handbag
∞ Farmhouse table (finished) and bench (not finished)
∞ Painting for kitchen
∞ Dress for Sarah (Finished pending buttons and some bias trim)
∞ Christmas presents . . . which are another entirely.

When Women Went Downtown

The city was brick and stone in the time

before glass and steel. In those days

the city was streets of women.

They climbed down from buses

in seal skin, navy straw hats stuck with pearl drop pins,

their double-knotted Red Cross shoes,

clutching black cowhide purses, leading the children.

They lunched in tea rooms

on chicken-a-la-king and quartered sandwiches

but never wine--and never with men.

Rising in the smoky air,

their voices blended--silver striking off silver.

They haunted book rental booths,

combed aisles of threads and zippers,

climbed to the theater balconies, the palaces

where Astaire dipped and turned them

into more than they were.

In the late afternoons they crowded the winter dusk

waiting at the Isle-of-Safety, for the bus

with the right name to carry them home

to the simmer of soup on the stove,

the fire’s sweet red milk.

Evenings, far over the tiny houses

the wind swept the black pines like a broom,

stars swirled in their boiling cauldron of indigo

and the children floated to sleep to the women’s song

zipping the night together, to the story

of the snow goose who went farther and farther

and never returned.

------- Patricia Fargnoli