My early years in Arizona were full of work and Thanksgiving potlucks with friends. We were all in the same boat: far from family, working hard, cobbling together a feast with a turkey breast in the crock pot and someone brings the potatoes and someone else brings the green bean casserole.
A year after Mike and I were married, his parents came to visit for Thanksgiving. The timing was convenient for them (my mom-in-law was a teacher and had a few days off), and it was fun for us to have real family in for an actual holiday.
A new tradition was born. And I love me some new traditions.
2009: FIL, MIL, SIL and moi. We look subdued here, but I swear, we’re SoMuchFun.
2010: We added a brand new Ryan and a soon-to-be-brother-in-law.
(I’m missing from the photo cuz someone has to take the picture. But I absolutely had a Penn State jersey on.)
2011: First Thanksgiving in our new (rented) house.
2012: Nan and Pop are now retired and can arrive a few days early to read to Ryan.
It’s our last Thanksgiving in Arizona because of all the stuff. It’s bittersweet. There are things about an Arizona Thanksgiving that I’ll miss. Throwing open all the doors and windows to let the 80-degree breeze flow through. The excitement leading up to the holiday – the only one we were able to spend with family each year.
BUT. This time next year? New traditions begin. And I love me some new traditions.