Thanksgiving Meal

Brother B. has been at the monastery for a bit longer than I have been alive. Or perhaps just a bit less time than I have been alive. Give or take lets just say 30 years. The monastery is located in the heart of some seriously beautiful Shenandoah countryside in Virginia. There is a working farm component to the land, so the sight, sounds and smells of cows were ever present during Thanksgiving and the day thereafter. Thanksgiving itself was made by Brother B.'s sister-in-law and nieces, perhaps with help from his brother and the nieces' husbands. I had 0% to do with the cooking, so I mainly filled up on cheese, enjoyed especially potent egg nog and flitted about taking so-so photographs. This sofa is the same sofa that was here when my parents and I would come up for a visit when I was younger. I recall building elaborate forts out of the cushions with another monk, and just having a grand time as a little person.

Brother B.'s brother after successfully slicing the prociutto wrapped cheese.

And Brother B.'s brother exhorting M. to give it a shot.

This old farmhouse and the one in which my father and I stayed are so strangely timeless. The wood paneling and decor that hasn't been updated since, I would think, the late '70s, can make one feel like they're in a bit of a time vortex.

Eggnog and belly laughs.

The house is not very updated in other ways other than decor. For example, its fuse system kept cutting out throughout the evening, which led to the electric oven being incapable of maintaining the temperature necessary to cook a turkey...which led to no turkey on Thanksgiving day. Thankfully (heh) there was also a beef tenderloin, which was grilled.

Brother B.'s great nieces and nephews, all up from Tennessee and Georgia respectively. These kids were pretty cool. My father and M. both seemed a bit overwhelmed by their constant energy and noise, but I found them to be engaging and friendly. At one point they took a flashlight from the house to play "German Spotlight," which I found just too funny. Too funny in that not funny kind of way when kids play a game that seems to allude to nazis. The game itself was basically freeze tag with a flashlight. I played a few times.

More snacks. Brother B. asked me to deal with the multiple cheeses located in the refrigerator, which you know was just so totally up my alley that I was more than happy to do so. This was a plate of salami and pepperoni wrapped prosciutto (pre-wrapped) and two different blue cheeses.

Another blue, a Camembert and I forget what that third one was...I didn't like it as much and so it must suffer the fate of not being cared about.

Before the sun went down there was such beautiful light and still-warm temperatures that all of us found our way outside at one point or another. The kids and their respective fathers threw a football around while an elderly Weimaraner wondered about.

It was a good meal. It's strange to spend a holiday with an extended family and group of folks you don't know all that well, as you simply don't have the same familiarity or comfort level as you might