Over the River and Through the Woods

Since my divorce in 1995, I've pretty much conceded Thanksgiving. I wanted the kids to feel good about continuing the tradition of dinner at their MaMa's in Augusta, where we'd gone every year, because I'm no idiot--that woman can cook. They were used to the houseful of people--the bustle, the genuine sense of holiday, a difficult thing to reproduce if you suck in the kitchen, are estranged from most of your own extended family, etc. etc.

But having been married again for almost 8 years, and with Lola's being plenty old enough to feel the absence of her brother and sisters, it has been a real struggle to create a tradition for her, happy T-giving memories she can look back on when she's twenty-five, living in NY, with an awesome SO (that means significant other, MF) and a cool dog, whining about how shitty her life is.

Every year, it's been something different: I've cooked for students (and they ate it!), gone to the beach, followed the in-laws to whatever destination...My mom has been pretty much left to her own devices, too, going down to her brother's in Florida for the past couple of years.

This year, though, Biggy came up with another plan--maybe the start of a new tradition. He found a cabin in Dahlonega, and not a cabler this time--a NICE one. He, Lo, Lo's friend K, dog-Daisy, dog-Stella, Mamoo, Granny, two of their dogs (which?) and I are going up this afternoon. Georgia and Jack are doing their usual stint East, then due in the mountains (with homemade pies) on Friday.

We'll eat, watch movies, mountain bike, hike, play Scrabble, yell at the dogs (and each other), and sleep.

I'm actually looking forward to this.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Happy Thanksgiving, y'all.