Thanks!

Our Thanksgiving table.

Chris drank a lovely white wine from our favorite Virginia winery. I drank sparkling white grape juice from Target.

We enjoyed a quiet, fuss-free Thanksgiving yesterday with just the two of us. The thickest fog I’ve ever seen in the DC area had rolled in the night before and made for an extraordinarily eerie yet cozy feel to the day. I got up early and baked the world’s greatest rolls, which were fresh out of the oven and ready for Chris to slather with butter and jam for breakfast when he got out of bed. What a wife, eh? I also made the pumpkin pie (and I make my own crust, thank you very much) and perfectly tart cranberry sauce. Chris tackled the bird, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and gravy. Later that night, he used the bird carcass, veggies, and other stuff to make his own turkey stock for his turkey soup, just like his dad makes it. I’ve said it before, but this guy keeps me very well-fed. He’s an amazing cook and he’s only getting better! I set the table (of course!) with the crystal and china, but I kind of lamented the fact that my autumn decorations are MIA somewhere in the depths of storage. Ah, well. Sometimes less is more, right? Around 5:00 we finally sat down to dinner and, after ooohing and ahhhing over the moistness of the turkey and Chris poking fun at my sheer love of gravy, we embraced the clichéd Thanksgiving activity of listing three things for which we were thankful. Chris: “I’m thankful for my wife, my baby, and . . . .” Ashley: “A 60-inch Wolf range?” Chris: “Nah. I technically don’t have it yet. But that will definitely be on the list next year.” Ashley: “Okay. But you still have to pick a third thing you’re thankful for.” Chris (after pausing for a moment): “Income.” Ashley: “Fair enough.” Chris: “And your three things?” Ashley: “I’m thankful for a husband who can cook, a spunky little fetus named Charlotte, and the ability to metabolize sugar.” Chris: “Here, here.” [wine glasses clanking]