all is safely gathered in

Here are the makings for Brian's Thanksgiving Green Bean Casserole...all ready to go for tomorrow! I will be adding yeasty croissant rolls: kneading, rolling, baking and then placing them, still warm and soft, into a basket. The last step is covering them with a pumpkin-colored cloth napkin to keep them warm for the car ride over the hill to my parent's house.

Have I mentioned how very much I adore Thanksgiving? Really I love November altogether.

It is certainly not the lovliest of months where I live. The show-offy trees of October have become haggared and worn down by the cold and rain that dampen the once-clear-blue skies that blow into the year's eleventh month. Now any leaves that remain dangling from trees look only a middle-aged rusty color among decrepit branches waiting for snowy white to cover their bald branches.

Every November I spend the whole month thinking about Van Gogh's Autumn Landscape.

October is crisp and clear-headed, but November is cozy. I am a fan of cozy.

Cocooning is an art-form for me. It's heavy, hooded sweatshirts and raspberry mugs of tea and a crackly fire under the mantle, stacks of books surrounding the overstuffed chair across the room. It's Gary Cooper in High Noon and Miles Davis' Autumn Leaves. And, of course, it's kids home from school, flannel pajamas and Charlie Brown's Thanksgiving. And, for just a little kitsch to the mix, it's WKRP's season one Thanksgiving special (are those live turkeys?! ?)

I know that by late-February this cocooning will begin to feel more like cabin-fever induced suffocation. But, for now, come in from the cold, listen to the baseboard heat rumble deep in the belly of the creaky house. Add a sweater. Light the candles and turn on the soft lamps at 5:00. Listen to the noises of the children echo against the recently-lowered storm windows. Take a nap to Saturday afternoon college football. Mull the cider.

This morning, these thoughts simmered while I sing quietly to myself (because, sadly, it's lost its congregational place of honor on November Sunday mornings)

Come, ye thankful people come;
Raise the song of harvest home.
All is safely gathered in
Ere the winter storms begin.
God, our Maker, doth provide
For our wants to be supplied.
Come to God's own temple, come;
Raise the song of harvest home.

How about you? What are your favorite ways to soak up the simplicity of this season? Do share, please....