While Kirby and the girls cut and wrapped the venison, I crocheted hats for some friends:

Hooray! for grilled venison -- and the accompanying peas, corn and smashed potatoes:

After dinner dance party:

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas:

When Gary (Mr. Songleader) announced that there would be a Christmas Choir practice at seven o'clock on Tuesday evening, Bri and Myra perked right up, "Can we go?"  In the days since, Bri's feet have cooled a bit.  Fear of the unknown.  She loves to sing, but she doesn't know what is expected of her.  Will Gary suppose that she knows all about augmented intervals (she doesn't -- neither do I), or that she can identify the alto and soprano parts without help?  "We'll see," I told her.  "The worst that can happen is they'll send us home and ask us not to come back."  Right?

Kirby worked late, making up hours from his extra day off; he wasn't even home when we left for Hayden.  The weather outside is frightful, and Idaho apparently does not believe in plowing.  Given the tentative speeds at which we traveled, I hoped that our five minutes late would be overlooked by understanding people.  We turned into the empty parking lot.  There was one car, mostly covered in snow, so we went inside, "Hello?"  Well, we had a nice chat with Pastor Steve at least.

Choir practice: rescheduled for next Wednesday.

yesterday:  Church.  Talked with Mr. Frey about my "tempted to despair/encouraged by your faith." No early service, so we were crowded.  Bri and Myra went home with Natalie, I crocheted some lace net stockings for Myra and watched Monk.  Angela dropped off the girls, Nat spent the night.

today:  Finished one sock for Myra.  She's jazzed.  As soon as Bri is finished with the green yarn, I can finish Mari's second glove.  Still need to make one more mitten for Wilson. Then Joseph Hoisington wants a hat like Wilson, and I want to make a hat and mittens for Logan. Started Myra on a sort of leg warmer thing, but we turned it into a baby hat.  Cream colored.  I made a yellow flower for it.  Brown button, voila, sunflower.

Another "We Planned To... But" day:

We were aiming towards the Rognes' for a day of sledding and snowball fights, but the road was awful (four lanes of two-way highway snowed in to two slushy tracks).  I thought I remembered a gas station on the south side of the bridge, but after a mile of watching for a suitable turn-around-to-go-back-to-town-for-gas, I knew I had put us in a bad place.  By the time I found a side road that was plowed, I realized we weren't going back to town for gas, we were going back to town for good.

I do not carry a cell phone.  I have a pre-paid phone that Kirby insists I bring on car trips, "just in case."  I figure that the pioneers crossed the plains in their covered wagons without cell phones, certainly I can drive about town without one.  As of today, I can see how my lack of cell phone can be a serious inconvenience for other people.  I could not call to tell the Rognes we weren't coming until nearly two hours after they expected us to arrive.  If Dave hadn't been busy helping an elderly neighbor, he might have been out trying to find us.

We dragged our disappointed selves back to the house and settled in near the fireplace.  I crocheted a glove for Mari -- neat, but I don't think I'll bother completing the pair; the yarn is too thick, making them very uncomfortable -- she'd never wear them.

Kylee came over to learn to crochet, so I started her on a hat.

Bright outside.  Snow, clouds, diffused light from town / moon.

Mari and Bri spent the afternoon in front of the camera, filming a skit from a radio show:

Cozy snow day:

Happy Thanksgiving!

I am thankful for daughters who are willing to create their own festivity:

Bri said it, but I was thinking it, "It almost doesn't seem like a holiday.  I like it better when the house is full of people, kids are running around everywhere..."  True, I love to be surrounded -- literally surrounded -- by friends and family, holiday or no.  But we discovered that we are capable of being thankful even in relative solitude.  He is good, even when we are lonely.  He is mighty, even when we don't have plenty.  He is God, even when we aren't actively conscious of Him.

We also discovered the value of traditions.  The turkey stuffed with bread dressing, the cranberry sauce, the olives -- nothing special in and of themselves, but they deliver a sort of continuity, a tangible connection between the fat years and the lean years:

Bri asked to be the first to declare her "Thank You, God, for..." list.  Turns out, by the time she was finished, there was nothing left for any of us to say but "ditto."  She was not only thankful for every part of Creation, she was thankful for every person who discovered or invented everything man-made -- and the tools and parts used to build those things.  Books, bowls, snow tires, mattresses, shoelaces... 

Myra:  "Time for pie already?  Can we press 'rewind'?"

Our plan was to go to Havre, MT for Thanksgiving.  Then it snowed.  Snowed sideways and backways and inside out.  Kent and Lois are no longer 7.5 hours away, they're now three mountain passes and 443 wind-blown, snow-packed miles away.  After hours (hours!) of deliberation, we sent Kirby and Kendric eastward in the little-car-with-good-tires to visit Grandma and Grandpa and to hunt while the rest of us keep the home fires burning -- literally.

Now we're making last minute preparations for our own Thanksgiving dinner.  We cheated and bought a Costco pumpkin pie.  Potatoes are peeled, waiting for tomorrow in a pot of cold water.  Bread is crumbled, ready to be made into stuffing.  The tablecloth is ironed; Bri and Myra are busy making name cards.  We'll miss the crowded table, but our holiday will be festive nonetheless!

The weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful, and as long as Kirby and Kendric make it safely to Havre, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!