On Thanksgiving, we find our way home as best as we know how. We roast vegetables. We whip cream until our arms throb, feeling the sting of sweet. We glimpse all we've tended, all we've sown, and we take a deep, shaky breath of thanks.
Cheers, friends: To apple-picking of a different sort. And to harvests, wherever they may find you. We are grateful. We are filled.
{Photo, Moi}
6 maids a-milking:
have a most wonderful, parisian-tinged thanksgiving! and thank you for the lovely, most appreciated thanksgiving wishes. much love from the desert-
xo!
Have the most lovely of thanksgivings my dear friend. xx
Happy Thanksgiving my intrepid Amanda! We were in Paris for Mother's Day, bittersweet. Met thee nicest man in all of France. As we left his diner, he came running out the side kitchen door, apron in tow. Presented me with a beautiful red rose and spoke in a language I didn't understand. His eyes said it all. It was a perfect day to be in Paris.
~Aunt Jeni
Perfect post, my dear. Happy Thanksgiving to you.
man, you make me feel like a jerk. I sit and drink coffee and offers snide comments while everyone else cooks.
p.s. LIPS!!!
This was absolutely the best Thanksgiving post I read among hundreds. Not that I'm judging or anything. Let the compliment transcend my character flaws.
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