As usual, my mom created her magic. Planned and made a lovely lunch for twenty-three of us. If only Yann and Martin had been here we would have been all together. The newest member baby Gabriel had attention galore and soaked up every ounce of it as he went from one person to another, some of my nieces and nephews had never held a baby before, but you could not tell.
Chelsea and my niece Kate made my mom's traditional sugar cookies and used the pesky turkey cookie cutter to make them. As expected my brother Marty ate some of the heads, if he didn't we would think it wasn't Thanksgiving.
Before lunch is served some of us step in to help my mom who guides and directs her band of sous chefs. Being my mom's sous chef is a breeze she knows what she wants and how she wants it the only pressure we have is to do it well as she says, "If you are going to help then do it 100 percent and nothing less."
Three tables. What I found funny was without anyone saying anything or directing anyone to sit in any particular place, the younger set sat together, the young adults sat at another table and the oldies sat in the dining room.
Sacha came home!
The best treat.
Homemade pumpkin and apricot pies, plus cookies and mud pie.
The first cousin lineup plus the next generation at the end:
Patti, Chelsea, Andy, Sacha, Sam, Jack, Joe, Gina, Marie, Maci, George, Molly, Kate, Warren, and Gabriel.
Sacha took better photos, these are just snapshots from my cell.
These five came to Paris with me a year and a half ago.
My mom with my sister-in-laws and nieces.
Some of the guys.
I am eternally grateful for the family I was born into, for the love and faith I was taught, for the respect we have for another, for my parents who taught us by their example what love is.
How fortunate I am, we are, to have such bounty.
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