We had a nice Thanksgiving, with six people and plenty of good food.
Over dinner, #2 son told us about his rafting trip in Colorado with the members of his college Ultimate team. He was in a flotilla of about 40 boats on a river high with snowmelt. You know how in movies the hero’s boat goes unscathed while all around him boats capsize and people go overboard and there is general mayhem? It was like that.
A guide dislocated his shoulder, a boat capsized right in front of #2 son’s boat and they rammed it, they were nearly swallowed up when they hit a boulder, and one of their team hit his head on a bridge because the river was so high. #2 son, situated in the prow of the boat with an old college buddy, couldn’t see most of the hoopla taking place behind him, though he did rescue a few people from the capsized boat.
“We were having a blast!” he assured us.
Then the Good Ol’ Boy told us about his elk hunting trip in Nevada. They walked six miles from camp, shot an elk, and then spent two days packing the elk meat out.
It was like Othello.
But we got a takeaway, too. #2 son, when I asked why he got to be the hero and not one of the casualties sent back to town, told me that part of it was fitness, but most of it was cooperation. “We’re a team,” he pointed out.
We were a meal prep team. #2 son made this awesome boule.
I made this delicious slaw of Brussels sprouts, apple, radish, celery, dried cranberries, and walnuts, with an orange vinaigrette dressing.
And this pecan pie:
Well, and the rest of the meal.
It was a nice day. #2 son went over to #2 daughter’s place in the evening and I knitted and relaxed. That was also nice.