So, for the month of November, I want to write every day... or at least post something on this blog every day.
"30 days of thanks" seems really cliche. "30 days of thirsty"? "30 days of thoughtfulness"?
A month of... ?!
(Do I need a theme, or is it just my vain attempt at a witty hashtag?)
Yesterday was my sixth annual Halloween party. I live in a neighborhood full of families, and trick or treating is one of my favorite childhood memories. My brother and I would circle the neighborhood with our father, while Mom would stay home and hand out treats. These days, I invite a group over, and those of us with children search out candy while those child-free friends porch sit with a bucket of chocolate and drink.
My mom always made veal stew for Halloween, because it can sit on the stove and just continue to get more delicious, but cooking veal stew for four people is different from cooking for 20. Last night, I made a Crockpot adaption of red beans and my take on Susan Spicer's duck and andouille gumbo. My beau made desserts, we outsourced appetizers/snacks/dips to other attendees, and a couple of families arrived with craft projects for the children (aged 3-5 years). I also made pumpkin martinis. The final guests left close to midnight, with sugar highs.
I've seen so many tricks and treats in the past six years: pregnancy, miscarriage, struggle to get pregnant, the ease of an additional pregnancy. I've traveled to new places and explored a new career. I've built a new family, composed of chosen loved ones. I fell in love with a man who has a child, which comes with lots of other tricks; no little girl dreams of becoming a stepmom when she grows up.
But it's been good. Hard and heartbreaking, but good.
And I am grateful.
(Photo credit: Joy Bruce)
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