To be sung to the tune of John Denver's "Sunshine on my Shoulder".
I've missed sausage. "Sausage" here is like a not-so-tasty hotdog on steroids. My life has been sadly lacking Jimmy Dean for over a year now. Do you know what that can do to a person (other than unclog their arteries)? So imagine my surprise when, at our Breast Cancer Brekky, I tasted ground sausage in one of the breakfast casseroles. I had to polish off the plate just for confirmation, but sure enough, ground sausage!
After being pointed in the right direction, I hit the butcher before Thanksgiving, in search of my sausage. There it was, in the corner refrigerated cabinet.
Labeled "American Sausage".
It sounds like a movie. If "American Sausage" were a movie, it would probably be a raunchy comedy. Or maybe it would be one of those stupid America is a war-hungry, world-dominating, self-serving country movies.
But that's a whole other thing.
Thanksgiving morning brought with it the beautiful smell of sizzling sausage. We had a bit for breakfast and used the rest in my new, not-so-good-not-so-bad, stuffing recipe. Mediocre, despite the sausage.
And I cried. Sausage made me cry. The scent whacked me in the gut with the force of a heavy-weight boxer. It made me feel homesick and sorry for myself.
But it also forced me into a more festive, Christmasy (and yes, in my family that's a word) mood. Because, let's face it, it's hard to be festive in sunny, 100 degree weather. So I became thankful for that sweet smell of sausage.
And I was hooked.
I went back to the butcher and bought $23 worth of sausage sliced into patties. Yesterday we had sausage sandwiches. This morning we had sausage, egg and cheese burritos. Tomorrow I'm sure we'll have sausage butt. Which means all the sausage we've eaten will go straight to our butts.
Speaking of festive moods and things we are thankful for...Thanksgiving was spent cooking, cleaning, eating and unpacking Christmas stuff. I knew that throwing in the tree was taking on a lot, but I needed all the mood boosting I could get.
Besides...the kids were bugging the crap out of me.
When the tree was up, lights on, popcorn strung and draped, we set in on the ornaments. Our tree is smaller here and last year we had a hard time fitting all of our ornaments on. So I left a few off.
Grace unwrapped all of the ornaments - that was her favorite part. Cole and Brady put them on the tree - the bottom half. I re-distributed according to tree gaps. But since we have ample ornaments, the tree quickly became gapless, weighed down and begging for mercy. In short, it's bursting and beautiful.
As the kids grow older and more aware, they have started with the "Is this my ornament?" question. Which took us on a long walk down memory lane...my walk being a bit longer than theirs.
The problem is, I find it difficult to get rid of any ornaments...ever. Even the cheap crappy ones remind me of my first Christmases on my own. Each holds special memories. I can remember buying beautiful, matching, expensive ornaments from Christmas Around the World. Then I can remember buying inexpensive, shiny ornaments in the same color scheme to help fill out the tree. I had to save money but still coordinate. Christmas Around the World was not cheap.
Then there are those from when Jason and I first married. Thus began a tradition where my wonderful Mother-In-Law (hi Mom) began buying us annual ornaments. And she made sure that each was signed with her name and the year on the back along with some X's and O's...because she loves us.
Then we added to the family. Not once, but three times. And they also receive ornaments annually from Grammy. And of course we began our own tradition of picking out one each every year to decorate with. Then we add on the occasional ornament I run across and just "have to have".
That leaves us with many, many ornaments. But instead of being stressed by the amount like last year, I found myself saddened that, one day, I will have to give them up. I began looking forward, instead of backward, to the time when our children will leave. And on their first Christmas away, I'll have to sit alone and divide our ornaments in order for them to start their own tree, their own traditions. Surely I'll cry and curse the speed of the passing years. Or maybe I'll have glass of wine and toast a job well done. Either way, it will be bittersweet.
And eventually I'll have to give up at least 3/4 of those suckers.
So this year, I looked at our ornament stash and smiled at the years behind us and the years ahead. I remembered where each ornament came from and envisioned where it would eventually end up.
And I stuffed the hell out of that tree!
Stuffing turkey butts and Christmas trees, wishing we could have been with you this Thanksgiving,
Angie
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