Done is better than perfect.
Thanksgiving: The Game Plan
It seems like perfect timing to make a blogging comeback around Thanksgiving because there are few things I enjoy discussing more than food.
I have a pretty solid Thanksgiving recipe repertoire, but this year I’m going to try a few new takes on some old favorites. Brian and I are hosting a pre-Thanksgiving Thanksgiving for my family this weekend and I’m already dreaming of carbs and pies.
Here’s the rundown:
- My usual “perfect” turkey because, listen, it’s pretty perfect. Trying it with this brine from Williams-Sonoma because I am a Johnson County suburbanite and that’s what we do.
- Mushroom-Thyme gravy plus the turkey variety
- The Pioneer Woman’s mashed potatoes because there is no other recipe needed. The end. Goodbye.
- Slow-cooker sage and sausage stuffing (with some corn bread added in for good measure). This is a first timer on the menu, but I’m excited about the slow-cooker element as my oven will be pretttttty busy that day.
- Mashed sweet potatoes with brown sugar and pecans - a very solid standby
- This homemade (no cans involved) green bean casserole that changed my stance on green bean casserole
- A kale salad. Just a head of kale, stems trimmed, chopped, massaged (yes, massaged) with olive oil and salt for a few minutes and then dressed with this vinaigrette. Lame, but need to pretend there is some nutrition involved in this menu.
- Buttered rosemary rolls that are only sorta homemade, but still taste divine (and free up time to bake pies)
- An apple pie that includes rum and apple cider that I’m VERY excited to try for the first time with a giant dollop of vanilla bean ice cream on top
- Wiliams-Sonoma cracked the code on pumpkin pie and it. is. delicious.
Oh and I’m not a vegetarian anymore. So bring on alllll the turkey leftovers.
One year.
I published my last post one year ago. It’s by complete coincidence that I thought about it today and have been feeling especially contemplative lately. And my fingers were itching to write, whether anyone would actually see this or not. So here I am.
And, because we’re all friends here (assuming there’s anyone still here), I’ll clarify a few things.
Twelve months ago, I asked for a year. A year of adventure. I asked my husband for that time. Because I felt like the next step in my career was right within my grasp and I needed that time to challenge myself and experience new things and to just Go. For. It.
I asked for that year because we want to have a family at some point. It’s a comical situation in which I tell Brian one month that I’m ready and the next month that I’m not and the next month that I want to adopt and the next month that we shouldn’t have children at all and then the cycle repeats itself.
So he was game and we agreed to figure out this kid thing later.
And… it’s been a year. LIKE A MAJOR YEAR.
I traveled. 15 times for work and a handful of other times for play. Bermuda. Zurich. France. Both coasts several times over. Lots of other destinations along the way.
I was promoted. Like… majorly. With two lines of business and eight amazingly talented people that I am responsible for. It’s awesome and exciting and terrifying and fulfilling.
I lost my grandmother in the spring. The hole in my heart still remains and my eyes well up with tears when I think about her. She was one of the most important people - and women - in my life. I was her number one and she was mine.
We went through a lot on the marriage front. It’s hard to be gone and then home and working all the time. But I look at him and remember that day in Austin nearly five years ago when we sat in a bar and talked for hours and I couldn’t imagine ever doing this with anyone else. And those vows we made? We made them to each other. Not to other people. Not to our jobs. Each other.
And so here I am. A year later. I feel like I grew up a little this year. Maybe a lot. It’s something that I simultaneously love and hate because a big part of me would love to be carefree and twenty-four forever. But I’m thirty-four. And I won’t ask for another year. That doesn’t necessarily mean a baby (or adopted child) is on the horizon. It means that it’s time to focus on what is important. To find balance. To be content and present. To care for my person and our marriage. And to take care of myself.
Cheers to 2016.
A year.
“Give me a year,” she said.
A year to travel. To explore.
A year to grow.
A year to feel powerful and strong and smart and important.
A year to succeed.
A year of living big and bold and unafraid.
“Yes,” he said.
And the adventures began.
I love being the Mayor of Kansas City because we don’t pretend to be something we are not. We are hardworking – not needy. We are friendly – not cold (although our winters would suggest otherwise). We are classy – not pompous. We are edgy – certainly not boring. And we are fun – as evidenced by our propensity to combine good music and good barbeque whenever possible (and people flocked here during prohibition, so what does that tell you?).
Don’t ever confuse the two, your life and your work. That’s what I have to say. The second is only a part of the first…There are thousands of people out there with the same degree you have; when you get a job, there will be thousands of people doing what you want to do for a living. But you are the only person alive who has sole custody of your life. Your particular life. Your entire life. Not just your life at a desk, or your life on the bus, or in the car, or at the computer. Not just the life of your mind, but the life of your heart. Not just your bank account, but your soul… People don’t talk about the soul very much anymore. It’s so much easier to write a résumé than to craft a spirit. But a résumé is cold comfort on a winter night, or when you’re sad, or broke, or lonely, or when you’ve gotten back the chest X ray and it doesn’t look so good, or when the doctor writes “prognosis, poor.”