How to Make a Volcamo!

by Caroline

First, you make a fire. Then get out your leafblower and blow it! Then boom!!! It's a volcamo.

Thanksgiving 2009

Some of the things I am thankful for....

Sam actually stood in place during his Thanksgiving program at preschool.

And not only did he stand in place, he did what he was supposed to do.

I am thankful for all the times I have heard his little voice singing Turkey Dinner, Turkey Dinner this month. He even does it with accompanying arm movements.

Turkey dinner, turkey dinner.

Gather 'round, gather 'round.

Who will get the frumfrick?

Who will get the frumfrick?

All sit down, all sit down.

Cornbread muffin, chestnut stuffin'.

Puddin' pie, one foot high.

(except here Sam inserts one mile high and laughs his head off)

We were so much thinner before we came to dinner.

Me oh my, me oh my.

I am so thankful for his wonderful teacher, Mrs. Mills.

Sam is thankful for his friends, especially Sauce, aka Josh.



On the day of his program, Sam wanted hair like his friend Mattox.

Mattox has blonde curls in a 100% true mohawk, talking no faux hawk. Mattox is to the left of Josh above, but, unfortunately, you can't see his hair.

So we did the best we could. Sam went up to his teacher as soon as he walked in and asked, "Does my hair look different?"

After he put on his pilgrim hat, he asked her again, "Does my hair still look different?" She was cracking up.

I am thankful for my SamSurpriseBaby even though having the four kids in six years has left most of that time as only a blur in my and Gary's minds. But jeeze, we couldn't imagine us being us without all of the crazy yahoos.

I really was so proud of him this day.

I am thankful that these kids like to be around each other, at least most of the time.

I am thankful for the beautiful weather we have enjoyed this month. These shots are actually from Thanksgiving Day, November 26. It was beautiful out!

I am thankful for Gary, and his job that lets me be able to stay home and do all the housewifery. And let's not forget the health insurance. Love you, Boeing!

I am thankful for the spread of food we enjoyed Thanksgiving Day, and every day for that matter.

I am thankful Gary isn't as psycho with a knife as he looks in that picture.







I am thankful for my little girlie girl.

And all the giggles these two share on a daily basis.

I am thankful that Grant loves his milk and now is back to liking pizza. I am thankful he will wear his glasses and retainers with no complaints.

I am thankful for how Sam has wonderful big brothers to look up to.

{And let me also say, I am thankful you all don't mind my lack of grammatical correctness. Or maybe it bugs you to death, but you never complain and I thank you. I am aware; I just like to ignore the stuffy English rules. It keeps me happier that way.}

Even though Jack won't ever cooperate for a nice picture, he's sure to jump in someone else's. I would be more thankful if I actually had a nice picture of him every once in awhile.

My mom was here during the week of Thanksgiving and I am thankful for that time together.

I am thankful for my parents.

And that we weren't all killed by a big black bull.

And of course I am highly thankful for our own family unit.

Not sure I can pair this picture with something I am thankful for, but I guess I can say I am thankful this beast can make the rest of the family unit all so happy.

How to Make a Volcano

By Grant
First, you take a tree stump with a small hole in it that's on the top. Then you put a hot coal in the small hole. You wait about half a day, then you get out a leaf blower(which you should call a blowtorch). It should be dark by now, and the stump filled with hot coals and 2/3 eaten away by the hot coals. Then you aim the "blowtorch" at some coals. Turn the "blowtorch" on, and watch the volcano erupt. After a while, point it away from that spot. It should burst into flames.
That's how to make a volcano!

My Birthday, Kel, and THE Pioneer Woman

Yep, I turned 42 this past week. Big yay. I think I experienced my first ever twinge of birthday-resentment because I really didn't find the card from Debra making fun of old people HALF as funny as I would have before. Or if I had picked it out for someone else.




Rock n Roll Bands for Folks Your Age:



The Grateful we're not Dead



Earth, Wind, and Fiber




Crosby, Stills, Nash, and not so Young




But the birthday turned out to be a good one, a very good one.




A few months back, I found out my very favorite blogger was publishing a cookbook and she was going to go on a book tour. She had a few stops in the Midwest and, by golly, one of them was St Louis! And the date was my birthday! Cool!




I asked my friend Kelly, the one who initially got me hooked on ThePioneerWoman.com, if she'd be interested in going with me to see PW, or P-Dub as we sometimes call her, and she said yes, and she arranged childcare for that night right then and there. I knew she was serious.




I mentioned to Gary that I might like to go do something special on my birthday--without him and the kids. Ouch?




But he was fine with it and it was officially on the calendar: Meet PW in STL




In the meantime, her cookbook was released and even hit the NY Times Best Seller list. I took the kids into Borders for Jack to buy a book he'd be waiting for. We had a 40% off coupon. I spotted Pioneer Woman's book right by the front door on the new releases wall and it was beautiful. I glanced through it and wanted it right then! But it was $27.99 and I knew I could get it on Amazon for $15 less. But if Jack would give up his 40% off coupon and skip getting his book, then it could be mine that very day. But no, Lego Star Wars, The Complete Dictionary won. Because it is highly important that the kids know everything there is to know about Sith Apprentices.




Kelly and I planned to order our cookbooks together from Amazon, and then not only would we be saving some bucks, we would even get free shipping. Except by the time I put the order in, the free shipping would have gotten the books here on the very day of the signing, and UPS doesn't come until after 5 p.m. to our house, and that was just cutting it too close. So we each came up with a 30% off coupon for Borders and shelled out the bucks. It was so worth it. We had our very own copies! In our possession! To put under our pillows at night or whatever.

The day finally came and Kelly came by to get me at 6 pm., but Gary wasn't yet home from work and I couldn't leave the kids. But that was OK since I couldn't decide on just what clothes I should wear to meet my favorite country-club-raised/turned L.A. vegan girl/turned cattle rancher wife. Finally, I settled on something and found UPS had dropped off some shoes I had ordered. OK, what could be more special than wearing brand new shoes to meet my blogger idol? Except Jack had made a comment about something involving "looking like a grandma would wear" {no offense to my two wonderful and hip Moms}, but I admit it planted a small seed of doubt as to if these were kinda too 'old school marm', and, remember, I was feeling a little sensitive about the whole old age thing. But I went for it, despite the heel height and despite I had read that people were standing 5-6 hours to meet PW. [Turned out the shoes were great!]




Gary got home and Kelly and I took off. She works very near the place we were headed downtown St. Louis, so she was a natural at driving us to just the right place. The venue had been changed from a small independent book store to a huge cathedral because of PW's days-earlier book tour stops involving huge crowds and incredible waits. Let me tell ya, the girl is getting so popular!





As we walked up to the cathedral, Kel and I simultaneously spied a black Suburban with a man in cowboy boots with two young boys in boots parked in front of the church--that must be Marlboro Man, Pioneer Woman's studly cowboy husband! That was Kel's dream, to see MM in person, even though yes, she is a happily married woman, a mom to two boys. I was pretty excited myself. This was the first leg of the book tour that he'd been along with PW, so it was a lucky break!









The cathedral, a little unusual of a setting?, was nearly full, but we found two seats alongside the wall, and surely those weren't open because of the big pillar ahead to the right? No, I had faith that PW would be talking at the mic of which I had a perfect view. As we're sitting and chatting and oh so excited that this night finally came, right alongside us walks MM and his two boys (the two daughters weren't along on this trip). Kelly secretly aimed her brand new phone at the manly man in his black leather, but couldn't figure out how to take a picture. Darn. Oh well, as it turned out, he gave her many more chances since he walked back and forth past us several times. The picture she finally got: a close up of his arm in motion!


Grr, complicated new phones.

I thought whipping out my pink camera would just be too obvious. I might look kinda stalkerish.




At last, the Question and Answer session started and we heard PW's voice. And it turned out that perfectly located microphone I had a great view of was for the people from the audience to ask her questions. So no, I had no view of her, but, hey, I could hear her voice. Kelly graciously traded seats with me after a short time, so through the hour or so of Q and A, we traded seats back and forth. We might have possibly annoyed the people behind us.





Finally, the Q and A was over and it was time to actually get in line with our books and meet her! Except half the church, at least 500 people, were ahead of us. And some of them brought not just one, but numerous copies of her book to be signed. Ugh, this could be a long night. But at least I was with a good friend and we had no problem chatting it up the whole time. And we watched PW's two young sons, the punks as she calls them, climb onto the balcony-pulpit-probably-something-quite-holy thing (P.S. I'm not Catholic). That made me love her even more. Yesss! Her boys behave just like mine.




They started letting those seated at the first pews form a line and then announced for the next ones to go, two rows of pews at a time. A couple of hours passed, at least we were sitting, and then we were finally to be called up next! Woo-hoo, finally! But then instead of announcing "the next two rows may get in line" (us!), they opened it up to everyone and said the remainder of the crowd may now get in line. Well, here Kel and I were at the farthest side and by the time we politely weaved our way over to get in line (totally fighting my internal drive to just run and push, a la George Costanza saving himself from a fire at the kid birthday party), only a handful of people were behind us. We were basically the end of the line. For a moment, it crossed my mind that I didn't want to wait any longer, maybe we should just call it a night, but that thought instantly disappeared when I remembered how excited I was to finally meet her. And Kel was game for whatever time it took, even though she had to work in the morning.



And now I realize that was a pretty close brush with old-lady-thinking on my part, right there along with "We better get home before dark."



Our long wait in line was actually fun as PW's son, 6 or 7 years old, came up to us holding his Sharpie marker and signed our book. What a cutie in his little Wranglers! I asked him if he was tired of all this book business and he just said, matter-of-fact, "no." I asked him if he thought it was cool to be famous? And he just looked at me, and matter-of-fact, said, "I'm not." He signed, actually printed, his name and moved on. And then the wait to get to PW just seeemed to get miraculously shorter when we realized MM was standing at a mid-way point in the long line, and signing! Oh man, we could actually talk to him! If we could. We each decided which page we wanted him to sign and held our finger to mark the page, hoping it wouldn't get a damp hump from our sweaty hands. The excitement was just so great!





The people ahead of us had their picture taken with him, so before he got to us, I told Kelly I would take hers. She said no! ?? I have to say, later after we had the chance to chat with him and I asked something totally dimwit about him owning Donny Osmond boots, I was so kicking myself that I didn't get a picture of him at all. Next time, Kel, warning: I will not be taking no for an answer.



Finally we reached PW's table and there she was in her red-haired gloriousness wearing a purple velvet jacket and looking so pretty and smart. Kel took my camera for me and snapped a picture as I posed near PW, trying not to be too near her, you know; I didn't want to look like too obsessive of a fan.



PW signed my book, and Lord knows, I know she had to be tired after all the traveling and hotel stays and just all the autographs she had signed that night since by now it was after 11 p.m. But she was so warm and friendly that I went out on a limb and pushed what I thought might have been the limit and asked if she could take a second more to sign the Charlie page for my kids. And I asked her to write something like an arf and make a paw print like Charlie the basset hound himself had signed it himself. And she did it. It's like we were connected, one mom to another.




When I got home and downloaded from my camera, this was the picture I found Kel had took of my magical moment!

And I thought.....What?!! Where am I?! Her exquisite purple velvet jacket... where? what the..?? My moment!? Oh, Kel, girl, we are gonna have to talk! My camera is not that complex!


Oh, and then I spotted these below. Turns out, as I found out today, Kel thought that PW just had an interesting sitting style, plus, we would have definitely wanted to know if she was wearing her Lucchese cowboy boots or the black pumps or just what. We are just that kind of fan.

Now: So, sorry, Kel, I take all that back. You did great.

Look, see? See?!

I think here my hand is on its way to cover my wide open mouth. I think here my hands are saying OMG!
There's the Charlie page. Arf!



Kel got hers signed, too, and I am not sure how her conversation went since I seeemd to have been floating in my own world, but I do know she told PW that I had chosen to spend my birthday getting to meet her. That Kel's such a giving friend!




And an added bonus, we each got a free T-shirt that we weren't even expecting. It's very hip and body-hugging and says Pioneer Woman in a fancy font with an elegant swirl motif on the front and a little Book Tour '09 on the back, which will have to stretch over my right hip. As soon as we got into Kel's car, I whipped off my own shirt and put it on. Can't say I have had it on again since I think it's gonna take a minor-to-major body overhaul to make me brave enough to wear it in public, but maybe underneath a sweater? Maybe a grandma-ish cardigan?

So that is the story of the night of my 42nd birthday. Many thanks to Kel and PW! I was such a happy girl.

You all should check her out. http://thepioneerwoman.com/ Her recipes are great. Her humor is so me. And her story Black Heels to Tractor Wheels will totally suck you in. And you'll totally see what's so great about MM.

Turkey Trot Followed by Bull Run

After all the Fakesgiving excitement on Saturday, we went to my parents' for a Sunday wienie roast last weekend. We always have a great time at their wienie roasts and know the kids will eat well. Just not Gary since he is strongly anti-hot dog, but he's still in for the fun. Plus, he's OK with roasting some brats.

So as we drive up, my dad has already cut some branches for wienie sticks. Did you know he even offers them in supersize? Too bad no pictures, but I was busy whittling down the tip of my stick to that perfect for hot dog diameter. And why did that take me the whole length of time as it did for Gary and my dad to cut and prepare about six sticks? I need to practice my whittling skillz. Guess I haven't had that much sitting-around-on-the-front-porch-time as the menfolk seem to have had. I've been doing babies and laundry or cooking or something.

And just where were the experienced scout boys of the family? Jackson and Grant have both earned their whittling chip, and Jack even has his totin' chip so he's, like, expert.

Oh, yeah, he was inside using his most practiced skill of watching TV.

OK, I will give him a slight break since he was still feeling kinda sick. But next time, buddy-o, you will be doing some of the knife work and I can get back to camera-izing.

Once the sticks were ready, we all piled in the back of the pickup and headed behind the house to the woods/pasture. That there's a little foreshadowing, folks.

Just for clarification: That is not toilet paper attached to C's head. But maybe that would have been a good idea? I agree with the wise Michael Scott. Maybe we should have had some hindsight.

It was a rip-roaring, bumpy ride with three kids, a mom and dad, and a grandma in the back of the bed of the truck. Grandpa and Jack, riding up in the cab, might have even hit some of the dips extra hard just for some fun. You have heard Grandma Betty's scream before?

Here you can see Gary using his boot to offer Grant a little bit of stability as he's getting thrown around.

Is that really a good idea? The boot? At the crotch?

Yes, I am The Mistress Laundress, but, honestly, it does make me happy for the kids to get familiar with some dirt, and I even like seeing the knees going through their jeans. It means we've had some time in the country.

We're all about the country except we live the suburban life. Oh, Rosie Horse Farm, so wish it would've worked out. Then I could even have manure laundry to do.

We arrive at our spot where Dad has been cutting trees and burning, and there's the hot bed of coals ready for us. We get the hot dogs going on the sticks, and you know, maybe it wasn't the wisest for Grant to have the Supersize? I think Gary quickly reduced it.

When the first hot dog was done, we realized, D'oh! The buns are back at the house! Me being Native American as I am not, I offer to literally run back to the house for them, like I am Quick-as-Wind now instead of Red-in-Face? As I head off, Dad hollers to me, "Watch out for the bull."

Well, I have a confession, and that is I am not so brave around the cattle as you might expect a girl who grew up with them to be. Once when I was a little thing, my dad and I went to the big creek behind our house to go fishing, and this, too, involved a woods/pasture. Once we got there, I decided fishing wasn't that much fun, and I was instantly ready to go back to the house. And after going to all the trouble of getting ready to fish and finally getting there, he wasn't. He said if I thought I really had to go back, I could just walk back myself. So I took off and did fine until I got to the barnyard and realized all these big black Angus cows were a-watchin' me. Every step I took. And black Angus faces don't look friendly. At all. They look perpetually ticked off. You know, maybe inside they were thinking "Ah, Diane, what a cute little girl!", but on the outside, to me, they were saying, "Territory invader. Let's see how quick we can kill her."

All I could do was hop up on the tractor sitting there. So I sat there and cried and cried until Dad got done fishing and came walking back through and found me. So, yeah, I am not that brave. Never have been and probably never will.

And my fear was probably cemented forever when I was older, maybe 12 or 13, and we had to help my dad find a mama who'd gone off into the woods to have a calf. My mom and I came upon her, and her calf, and I saw firsthand how mamas have that protect-the-baby-instinct that make them do powerful things. Like take off running at me with the quick start of a racehorse. I turned and ran into a low hanging tree branch and it knocked off my glasses. Panic waved through me--do I go back for the glasses (I am pretty much blind without) or just keep on running? Honestly, now I can't remember which choice I made, but I do remember running and running, scared out of my mind. Funny how those feelings stay with you so vividly for years when the actual memory for the event is cloudy. So, when my dad mentioned, Watch out for the bull, I took an alternate route back for the bun run, longer but outside the fence. Ah, safety.

I returned with the buns and all was well in the wienie roasting process. Until the cows came up. And that is really no biggie because they were interested in their grazing and didn't pay any attention to us at all. But they brought the bull along with them. He wasn't invited.

The wienie roast spot was up on a hilltop and the bull stood at the bottom and watched us. OK, he's just curious since there's not usually so much commotion (Gill kids) going on there. He'll move along and follow the cows. But he didn't. He started climbing the hill. At that point, I admit, my fear kicked in and all I wanted to do was get myself out of there.

Oh, I'm sure mean all I could do was think of protecting my kids, so I calmly told them to calmly get to the truck, that we were fine (big faker) but we just wanted to get somewhere not so wide open in case the bull got even more curious. Can I just say, Caroline is her mama's daughter? She had panic in her eyes from the get-go while the boys cooperated, but weren't looking that worried.

Mom and Dad and Gary stayed at the fire, none of them even looking one ounce scared. But that dang bull kept on coming and then got right up to them. The men told Mom to get to the truck, but she wanted to gather up the food and things. I got forceful (not typical Diane at all) and told her to get in the truck right now. Just bring Jack's medicine bag that was hanging from tree. That was the only thing I was worried about. Food, we can buy more food. Jackets, we can always get another.

Finally she got into the bed of the truck, but then just stood there like a beacon for the bull to follow, from my perspective. Sit the heck down, MOM!! And I will admit my perspective was: hunched over at the the farthest front corner of the truck bed with arms around Caroline and Sam. A ball peen hammer and chain saw were within my reach, but it didn't really make me feel any better because Hello? Have you seen Angus bulls?

Dad tried talking at the bull and then making moves trying to shoo him away, but no, he just moved in closer. Then Dad grabbed a stick, a little one I would say, less manly even than the supersize wienie stick, and gave the bull a whack across its back as encouragement; encouragement to toss my Dad 30 feet into the air? That's how I saw it, but later Gary explained it was for intimidation. I know nothing of that.

The bull and Dad and Gary did a little slow dance amongst the trees, and it was so hard for me to sit there and watch this. And this lasted a long time. They tried throwing hedge apples to get him to go off after them. Then Gary figured the bull was interested in the buckets we had been sitting on since he would have recognized them as previously holding feed, so Gary tossed one of the buckets over the hill, thinking maybe he'd go after one. But he didn't. Dumb animal.

At one point, Gary looked to cowering me and asked if I was getting pictures of all of this. I just shot him some burning eye glare, and he chuckled. Besides, he had the camera on him. And now looking back on it from the safety of my computer chair in our cozy house 100 miles away, those would have been some awesome shots, but at the moment, no way no how.

[The above picture is actually from the Internet. So you can take away the nose ring but add a few hundred pounds. The real bull was a new one to my dad. I found this all out after the fact, but another farmer wanted my dad to take this bull because he'd been going through his fences and he was tired of it. And that man had him because this bull started out as a 4-H animal, but broke his lead so he got kicked out of 4-H. Uh-huh. Probably better I didn't know his background at the time.]

The bull came closer to the truck. All I wanted to do was start that engine and get the you know out of there, but it wasn't that easy. We were in the woods. It's not like there's a clear roadway to back it up in reverse and drive along our merry way. And it's a stick shift and we're on a hill and I could just see PanicDiane messing that up. Plus, I was busy hovering around the children. Well, Jack had the choice spot, inside the cab, smart kid, and Grant was on his own, but near me in the bed. And get this, Sam kept escaping the refuge of his mama's arms to stand and offer the bull his half-eaten hot dog. That kid was oblivious to the whole danger concept.

Dad tried another stick approach and this time, as the bull was within maybe six feet of the truck, he whacked it across the nose. Very brave man you are, Darrell, but DON'T DO THAT AGAIN. But I admit, here's a man who has worked cattle for 50 some-60 years and I guess I should give him some credit. It's just very frightening to see your little man of a dad who maybe weighs 150 pounds now, go up against an animal that weighs a ton. That's two thousand pounds! He was a little out-sized, as I saw it. And there's Gary right alongside of him and, yes, Gary is strong and all that, but he doesn't know the animal. I was in a bad state.

At the pop of the stick across the nose, the bull decided he didn't like that, and we heard a snort and saw the bullfight-in-Spain pawing of the ground that you know means he is getting agitated. At that time, Dad said he would get to the truck, best thing I'd heard in awhile, and would back it up into the bull, thinking maybe that he would move it along. Well, backing the truck into the bull means the rear of the truck would be coming the bull's way and that is where I am located! And, oh yeah, the three kids. Gary stayed outside the truck and his plan was to use the trees to hop behind if the bull came after him.

Dad backed the truck and Bull didn't react at all other than getting ticked off more. He lowered his head down and lifted the truck by the bumper I KID YOU NOT! And I, and the children, are a flimsy tailgate and few feet from him! I couldn't stay in control much longer, and at that point, yelled to Dad to drive forward NOW! I freaked on Gary and told him to get in that truck, and you know, he did!

This whole scene had been going on for at least twenty minutes, if not thirty, and I was just about to have a total melt down. Dad maneuvered the truck to get turned around and I was just thinking "Bull, don't you jump in here." All I could think of was little Sammy, weighing 34.5 pounds. Had the bull been serious about hurting us, he so could have. But I guess he was a young, curious one and just was having fun testing my mental stability.

We drove off and left him standing there. Getting out of that pasture was one of the hugest moments of relief in all my life. Right up there with 10-pound baby finally out after 38 hours. No kidding.

Dad and Gary went back after awhile to retrieve all the stuff we'd left behind and found all Bull had really messed with was Gary's bratwurst that he'd cooked and left on the stick in the center of a milk crate so he could eat once the bull stopped interfering with the meal. The bratwurst was in the fire and the stick was completely slobber-covered.

The End

And, yes, my hands are shaking just retelling the story.

And don't you dare believe Gary if he says it wasn't that big of a deal. Big faker.

Caroline Nick name.

by Caroline

My nick name is Carolyn.

1. It looks like crayon.
2. I call me that.

Feeding Sidney

by Caroline

"Caroline, I want some food!"

"I love my food!"

"Gimme some food!"

This is the second time I fed a baby.

The first was Elizabeth, our neighbor.

Sidney was harder. She kept on making her face look out the window.

She ate carrots. She liked them very good. She's like "Aw, Caroline, I want some more! Awwwww." Sidney was whining. If she could talk.

Gill Turkey Trot & Tradition

Once upon a time, there was a Ross who came up with the idea of a 5K race for the family on Fakesgiving, a Thanksgiving celebration 12 days early. Sounded like fun so count us in! And then he whipped out official race bibs, one for every member of the family. And he included safety pins. It was pretty well thought-out.

It's handy to refer to these pictures when you need to know someone's age. Karen- 1962. Gary- 1967a. Sidney- 2009

Here we are at Charley Brown Park.

Well, not Jack because he woke up feeling pretty awful with a terrible cold. We left him behind. That sounds pretty cold.

These are the two family members who weren't in the group picture even though they were present because they found it more fun to be in the back seat of the van looking at a book.

Debra's thinking, if these '00 decade whippersnappers think
they have anything on me...

Race participants even received complimentary water bottles with the official race name and EVERYTHING!

That Ross!

Debra skipped the race and she and Sidney hung out.

The park's burned ground and lingering carbon smell was lovely, I must add.


At the starting line and they are off!


Finishing lap 1

Tom and his grandboys happened to be at the park golf-carting around, so Carter, the little running machine, joined the race, and Ollie got into the book with Grant and Sam.

Here's what was so interesting in case you are curious. Sith Apprentices. So very Star Wars.





Did you know Karen does a mean flamingo?!

Sam was the lone biker in the race. And he stayed on his bike for a total of about 3 seconds.

If Diane were an Native American, her name would be Old-Lady-with-Red-Face. But do notice how it perfectly matches the shirt trim.

We are hoping this was actually Sam's own water bottle but rumor has it, it was Ross'.

The kids enjoyed the playground.

Caroline Belly Laugh.

Grandma headed back to the house to make sure that the turkey feast would be ready for us while some stayed at the park.

Here Grandpa's telling the kids to walk down the dam hill. Grandpa!




















Oh, dam.

Gary, that's dam steep!

But all joking aside, let us not forget the real meaning behind the holiday and what is important about having our family gather together from miles away:

We give thanks for the Big Swig.

So, after such an enjoyable experience with the first Gill Family Turkey Trot 5K, it could become a continuing tradition. Kind of like this one.

At Thanksgiving, Grandma presents the grandkids with a Hallmark Christmas ornament chosen especially for them. Ross is on year 24, I believe, of his series. Now that is something special.

Caroline's this year is a Fairy Girl.
























Jack's series is Snoopy as a scout, very fitting as he is in his 5th year of Boy Scouts and his goal is to become an Eagle Scout.

Grant loves his penguins.

And Sam's was a perfect choice for him, a John Deere lawnmower. Except he would not get over the compulsion to go out into the yard to see if it really would cut the grass. Once he ran it through and got his answer one way or the other, he was fine.

Unfortunately, Jackson was pretty miserable most of the day feeling sick, but here he perked up enough to go outside and visit Sonny, wishing him a Happy Fakesgiving, I bet.

So, in summary, it was a super fun family time--the Turkey Trot was a hit, the food was delish, and it was wonderful to be together, but we were missing you, Julia and Neil!

Happy Thanksgiving to The Gills! I am so thankful to be one of you. I'll let Sidney convey just how it makes me feel.