Tahoe and Reno enjoy their last snuggle in front of the evening fire. Our home may have been more visually perfect before we allowed dogs to romp in the house. But how they open our hearts to joy, more than makes up for rumpled throws and tipped over pillows.
Trevor, our oldest son, shows off his skills which earn him the title of Designated Turkey Carver. The beauty with which he lays the meat on the platter makes me want to serve the bird at home.
As much as I enjoy dining out, there are rituals like this which spawn deep feelings that simply can't be replicated in public. Not at any cost.
The guys at Orchard's Fresh Market in Whittier get a huge shout out. I never thought I would be able to buy a smoked turkey as good as mine: what they did with the hickory pellets- with only 24 hours notice... the meat was juicy, tender...the smokey goodness lightly rising from the fork with each bite...mmmm... I just might dismantle my dishwasher every year so I have an excuse to pick up this holiday tradition instead of fretting for 12 hours over my own smoker.
The elegant glass stands are a gift from Kenny and Shannon. Don't you love how tempting the gleaming glass domes make Sheryl Steven's English Toffee and the fudge and baklava look?
When the dishwasher went out, I thought there would be no baklava- but the good folks at Claro's Italian Market were open special on a Wednesday to help their customers out.
The New Years Holidays are at the intersection of Yin and Yang. On the Eve, we look back. Prayers are said for gone missing from our lives. Any regrets are silently scribbled on scraps of paper and burned in the fireplace to burden us no more. In the morn, the only thing left in the ashes are the lessons of mistakes. The squares of the calender are tattooed with the numerals of the New Year . All the blank pages are eager to be filled with the elixir of youth-anticipation.