I could not have asked for a more wonderful day. Finally fell asleep around midnight, and then sporadically woke up a few times because Doxy seems to prefer to work -- or give the illusion of working -- during daylight hours only. Felt relief around 7am and laid in bed until 9 soaking up the comfort.
Having baked two different pumpkin pies last night between H.B. and myself, and an experimental cranberry tart bar dessert, there was no work to be done today before heading over to my family's house around 3pm. So we were lazy. And I did some Chanukkah/Christmas/Birthday gift brainstorming. Serious business.
Upon arriving at The House, there was the soup course followed by one of the most enjoyable board game conventions of my family's history. The main meal followed, and was the single most rewarding meal of my life; turkey, my dad made me special stuffing without celery or sausage, cranberry sauce and mom's magical yam stuffed oranges (I could not indulge in the asparagus dish). Ordinarily, I look forward to these dishes all year and stuff myself to beyond limits knowing full well that I will finish the evening with a Crohn's attack (and I usually do).
This year, I trained for a week beforehand expecting that my current flare would ruin my favorite holiday (above Rosh Hashana only because of the stuffing!). I came armed with on-the-spot interventional drugs of all varieties. I purposefully encouraged gaming between soup and main meal, and music/pool between main meal and dessert so as to allow maximal space to be made and used.
It worked. No Crohn's pain. Even during years when I'm doing well in general, Thanksgiving never fails to assert its domination over my intestines via pwning my self-restraint. My first Thanksgiving on record with no Crohn's pain.
My mother arranged a three part harmony of Mood Indigo and some other songs, and convinced my brother to compliment her unparalleled jazz piano on his acoustic. There were at least three hours of singing and playing between dinner and finally breaking out the Four Desserts, over which time my voice warbled out of its comfortable hibernation and finally relaxed into familiar bossa nova and even operatic ambitions. This was the first H.B. has heard me sing.
Unfortunately, as the music-making ensued, Doxycycline turned in its time card for the day; the dreaded and presently unidentified nervous spasms began to resurface. I made it through the music session and dessert, but was forced to take H.B. and some leftovers and leave thereafter. So unfortunate; the gaming and music-making could have gone on all night.
The bitter end has had not the slightest taint on today's sweetness, however. I am totally satisfied -- enamored, even -- and looking so fervently forward to the next family gathering that it is a good thing I can't sleep, because I have no interest in doing so :)
I adore my mother's squash soup.
And the wine that I could not drink.
... And the wine that I could not drink...
I love my mother's hands on the piano.
And I love my siblings.