Okay, who here has spent most of the afternoon and/or evening in a food coma? My hand is waving limply in the air. It has taken me until almost midnight to sit up straight enough to type. And I didn’t even eat all that much. I had one modestly mounded plate, plus a couple glasses of wine and a small helping of gluten free blackberry cobbler. That’s it for the day. But with the combination of rich food, wine mixed with my stomach meds, and a large house full of family and assorted good friends, I was wiped out by sundown. Not gonna lie, it was worth it.
We went where we most often gather for meals this big, to my brother- and sister-in-law’s in Boulder. They have the largest house, and they generously hold open their doors to all of our big family at least one holiday a year, if not two or three. We were told the count would be 25 attendees this year, but it felt like more. Four of the kids weren’t there (one of mine, one of another sister-in-law’s, and two for the hosts), but several made it in from out of town, including the parents of the first member of the next generation. The happiest, most routine-friendly baby ever was there, and he charmed all of us. It’s going to be fun as more of the nieces and nephews have babies (and who knows, maybe someday one of my kids). I think we were due a little extra chaos.
After a most excellent holiday with family, I staggered home (the walk from the car to the living room was exhausting), and once I changed into PJs, I melted into my favorite chair and was never heard from again. I pretended I was going to play on my tablet or crochet, but really I was a perch for felines who held me in place while we all slept. Harvey and Rabbit took shifts. They made sure I was never alone long enough to rise during the few moments I was awake. By 9:30 or so, I was ready for one leftover gluten free dinner roll, but I had to wait over an hour for my lap to be empty so I could go get one. After a quick trip to the kitchen, here I remain, still in my chair. I’m too tired to sleep, but not awake enough to be functional. I think I am a living, breathing metaphor for the American Thanksgiving experience.
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