The Turkey and the Tortoise

Our Norman Rockwell moment

But before that could happen, a lot of this had to happen. And when I say a lot, I mean A LOT!

Here's my foolproof trick for freeing up oven space. Oh yeah, a man and his grill. Works like a charm!

Let's take a closer look at that bird. Mmmmm...nothing beats a mesquite smoked barbecued turkey. And the drippings (because yes, we catch them in a little pan, down there with the coals) are to die for. The gravy is a-maz-ing.

Carving the bird is the hated task of the day.

But I did my part this year. I supplied the instructions. Lots of pictures. Minimal wordage.

Good Thing.

Mama gets a little love from the college kiddos. . . .
It was a day of family surfing

sisters singing

and little brothers smiling.
And it was a lovely day to lie in the grass!

Them Leaves, Them Leaves, Them Dry Leaves

If you remember, I went to Missouri a couple of weeks ago, where the gas is cheap and the leaves are turning all sorts of fantastic colors. I brought home a gallon ziploc full of leaves and stuffed them in a book to press them. The other day I pulled them out to see what I could see. Hmmm...the colors were not exactly the vibrant hues I remembered.


In fact, this brown leaf was originally the most spectacular shade of bright yellow. I guess it lost a little something in the pressing.


This one was a wonderful shade of orangey red, much like the fake leaf in the background. Because yes, I resorted to supplementing my supply with a few silk leaves which look a little less glaring in real life than they do in these photos.

The weird green brain ball is actually a hedge apple, which I wouldn't have recognized if it hadn't been for this Kansas lady who is educating me on all things midwestern. Every person who has sat at my table has picked this bad boy up and asked, "What the heck is this thing?" It's quite the conversation piece. They sniff it, want to know if it's edible, and weigh it in their hands, feeling its heft as if they are thinking about chucking it. Which, according to my mom, we did when we briefly lived in Oklahoma. Ok, not me personally, because I was only 4, but the kids at the school where my dad taught were enamored with the hedge apples and found that they were fun to throw at the outhouse across the field. Until someone came out of the outhouse. Not too happy, I might add.

So there you have my fall centerpiece. No gourds or Indian corn this year. I learned my lesson a few years ago with the dried corn. You can't store it in the attic or the garage to use again next year, because the rodents, well, they rather like dried corn, and I'd rather not have them visit any more. So no Indian corn for me.

Missouri Loves Company

I got my fall leaves fix in Independence, Missouri, this weekend. I tell ya, cactus just doesn't do it for me when it comes to fall colors. I scampered around like a little squirrel, gathering up my autumn goodies, packing them away in my suitcase, and hauling them back to sunny Phoenix.

First we visited the Bingham Waggoner Estate, which unfortunately just closed for the winter. We prowled around, sat on the porch, and hopped over the bridge in the back lot to see the wagon train swales, which I wouldn't have recognized if it weren't for the guidebook. (And in case you're wondering, a swale is a rut in the ground from thousands of wagons passing over.)



Then we visited Bess and Harry Truman's lovely home, which surprisingly had the same wallpaper in the kitchen that we had in our California home when I was growing up, and no I am not that old! The Trumans also had the same chandelier in the dining room that Ian and I had in our last house, only the Trumans didn't have a rambunctious little boy who jumped up from the table, hit his head on the chandelier, and broke it. Also, theirs was much less dusty than mine was. Wouldn't it be lovely to have National Park rangers to dust your chandelier for you?


We'll see what I can manage to do with those leaves tomorrow.

Grasping at Fall

How can you tell it's fall in Phoenix?

Well, the wind blows ever so gently. This morning it was slightly cooler outside than inside. We might consider turning off the AC, but only at night, and not quite yet.

We've power raked the lawn and are getting ready to reseed, along with the few other neighbors who have grass in the yard. So it smells like fall with the scent of manure wafting on the breeze.

And you can get a pumpkin scone at Starbucks, so it must be fall.