We had such a wonderful Thanksgiving. It was absolutely full to the brim with loved ones, good food, good conversation, laughter, and joy.

Our festivities began on the Saturday before Thanksgiving, when my sister flew in to spend her break with us. Michael played an entire morning and afternoon with Aunt Boo while I prepared the house for guests. Unfortunately, I have no pictures of their games of chase or fort building. Sunday, dear family friends came into town.

Monday, my in-laws arrived: Michael loved spending time with Oma and Opa and Uncle James (even if it took him a little bit to get warmed up at first).

Tuesday was my grandfather’s 80th birthday, and after the busyness of the day we all wandered up to the Grand House and sang happy birthday to him in harmony.

Wednesday, more family friends arrived and my brother flew in as well. Michael loved reading books and playing organ and piano with Uncle Jon.

My dad’s Thanksgiving turkey is renowned among our family and friends for being tender and flavorful: he’s got his cooking method down to a science. Michael was thrilled to help with the brining process, and helped with both turkeys (we needed two for the crowd we expected on Thanksgiving!)

Thanksgiving morning my sister-in-law was able to fly in from Utah and join us! As always, where Fentons congregate, music follows. Our piano got more use this week than it’s seen in a while, and it was lovely to hear many renditions of Heart and Soul and different improvisations ringing through our cottage.

Cooking preparation was split between houses, and our house took care of the pumpkin and apple pies, rolls, and cranberry sauce. My mother-in-law’s apple pies are incredible, and she helped me make pie crust for my pumpkin pies. I used a new recipe this time, and it turned out excellently (if I do say so myself). Jake is the expert bread baker in this household, so he made his rolls (a family friend’s recipe). He made them the first Thanksgiving he joined our family, and now it’s an indelible tradition.

Looking at the food spread out for Thanksgiving dinner, I felt as though I had fallen into a Redwall feast. If you, too, grew up reading Brian Jacques’ Redwall series, you know he was famed for his delicious descriptions of food. We had spiced red wine cranberry sauce, bacon wrapped green beans with rosemary, two huge and fragrant turkeys, mashed potatoes with pools of golden butter, pastry wrapped baked Brie with pomegranate jam, pumpkin and custard and walnut and apple pies, homemade whipped cream — and so much more.

All in all, there were 34 people around our tables on Thanksgiving Day. And it was a glorious, beautiful sight. I have hardly any photos from the actual day, because we were so busy prepping and eating and spending time with our loved ones. We have a tradition of taking photos every Thanksgiving with my mother’s good camera: we haven’t had the chance to download them yet, so I have no photos of the entire group. Here’s a snap of the chaotic group photo taking process!

The day after Thanksgiving is possibly my favorite day of all. The majority of us are introverts (including extended family and friends). As much as we love the joy of Thanksgiving, the day after is a day to rest and rejuvenate. We sat outside by the fire pit for almost the entire day, and read or talked or sat in silence.

Cornhole games were played, archery was practiced. I spun on my Turkish spindle. It was a very good, very peaceful day.

Every single bed, couch, air mattress, and spare room on our property was full. And it was glorious. It was a moment where everything we’ve worked for on this strange little homestead of ours felt right.

Some people don’t understand what we are doing here: I’ve gotten my share of snide comments about “still living with my parents” (despite having our own home, parcel of the property, and mortgage). But whenever I begin to wonder if I’m crazy for doing this, weeks like this happen. I’m so grateful we live in community so we can pool all our resources and be a “third place”: a place for gathering and sanctuary and community; a place for prayer and rest and rejuvenation.

However, living in community isn’t idyllic, despite what blog posts and pictures may seem.

There is difficulty and pain and brokenness, and stress and short tempers and tears. The broken edges of our sin snag on the people around us, and their edges snag on us, and bit by bit, through reflection and prayers and the grace of God, we begin to sand down these broken edges and become who were are made to be. Here, our brokenness is seen most clearly and cuts the deepest, but here it also can be made whole.

But weeks like this week are exactly why we endure the crucibles parts of this undertaking; why we choose to live as four generations on five acres.

It’s weeks like this that make me so, so grateful.

I see gratitude as an act of defiance against the darkness. If you’ve been reading along with our journey on this blog, you know that we’ve had our share of grief and pain. There has been much darkness. But this week was light: joyful and defiant and shining against the brokenness of the world around us.

Glory to God.

As the nights grow longer and darker, I’ve started embracing the dimmer lights. After dinner, most of the main lighting in the house is off and replaced by table and floor lamps and candles.

We’re leaning into the coziness, slowing down as the land around us begins to settle into late fall. Yet even in the slow coziness, much has been happening.

My great uncle and aunt from Arizona visited! It was so lovely to see them again. There was a lot of laughter and amazing food (courtesy of my grandmother!) My uncle helped my grandfather spread more gravel on their driveway, and Michael was thrilled by the machinery he got to watch and climb on.

Michael is soaking up whatever time outside he can get before the sun sets. My mother got sidewalk chalk and bubbling color tablets, and the two of them had a grand time over the weekend.

Despite the slowing of the world around them, our pomegranate trees are producing like crazy. We picked as many as we could, and they’re waiting in the garage for when we have time to seed and juice them. Homemade pomegranate jelly is one of the most delicious things I’ve ever eaten: we’re running low and I hope I can get a few half pints put away before the end of the year.

As an aside, we accidentally grew a pumpkin. I tossed our old pumpkins out in the weeds last year, thinking they’d decompose and be eaten by critters. Two of them did: apparently the third decided to take root. My dad found this green beauty growing happily among the star thistles about two weeks ago.

Michael also helped me make Jake’s birthday cake. He is determined to taste every step of the baking process no matter what the contents of the bowl are: flour and baking soda, raw eggs, vanilla extract…etc. It’s been an interesting learning curve. He’s also gotten quite adept at pouring and stirring. He loves the concept of cracking eggs…not so much the actual process.

I’ve been working away with my needles in my spare moments. Tis the season of gift knitting, so I won’t be posting most of what I’ve been working on to keep them surprises for their intended recipients. However, I did make this little hat for Michael to keep his head warm on his outdoor excursions. The contrasting color is my own hand-spun yarn. I even cast on a hat for myself that will match. It’s so satisfying to knit with yarn I’ve made myself, and I love these colors so much.

I’ve also been spinning more, both on my wheel and on my Turkish spindle. I told one of my dearest friends (the one who taught me to spin last January!) that I feel like this Turkish spindle is my magic wand: it’s almost like it chose me like the wand chooses the wizard. I love how it moves, I love how lightweight it is; I love the small bee motifs on the arms. It’s been an absolute delight to use.

I found a new fiber shop that I’m obsessed with: Inglenook Fibers. My Orthodox friends may know of Holy Nativity Convent in Massachusetts: I often buy candles and icons from them. They’re connected! Mother Macrina is one of the skillful artists behind these beautiful colors, and another sister helps her with the different processes of preparing the fiber. I’ll be supporting them every chance I get.

I love these chilly days, and I especially love these slow and cozy evenings. I’ve taken to having a cup of tea and sitting and knitting or spinning until bedtime. I usually listen to a podcast or an audiobook, or read, or sit and chat with my husband. Once Michael is asleep, once the dishes are done, once the day’s clutter has been put away, I sit and delight in the things that bring me joy and fill my cup.

It’s a cozy ritual I’ve come to cherish. Even on the worst days, I find comfort in the familiar scent of lemon balm tea and the quiet cadence of my spinning wheel or knitting needles.

I recently listened to a vlog by The Last Homely House on YouTube, where she mentioned an old adage her grandmother used to say: Get out of your head, and into your hands. I find that to be my remedy for many things: anxiety, fatigue, irritation; grumpiness. Once I get out of my head and into my hands, my body relaxes and my cup begins to fill again.

So if the cold and dark are encroaching on your cozy rituals, I encourage you to join me: get out of your head and into your hands.

We’ve had a beautiful end to October and a cozy start to November.

I’ve been spending a lot of time organizing our cottage and planning small improvement projects. Jake and I have a theory that since I didn’t have a chance to “nest” when I was pregnant with Michael, my nesting instinct is in hyperdrive with this pregnancy. So far I’ve rearranged Michael’s room and closet, cleared out our closet and organized our bedroom and bathroom, organized our storage shed, and collected way too many bags and boxes for donation.

Jake has been an absolute saint as I move through the house like a whirlwind. He’s built and hung shelves without complaint, and most recently he finished a project I’ve dreamed of for months: a countertop for our laundry room.

He spent a few days planning it out from an picture/video I saw on Instagram, assembling the pieces, and putting it together. I helped by picking up supplies and staining the wood and reminding him every few minutes just how much I loved and appreciated him.

I’m so thrilled with how it turned out. I now have a place to fold clothes besides our living room couch, and a retractable laundry line for hang-drying! (The golden “bell” in the after photo). I also splurged on some peel-and-stick wallpaper for the cabinet doors to add a fun pop of color. I’ll update with more photos when it arrives.

Michael came down with a nasty cold that lasted a full week, so we didn’t do any of our yearly Halloween traditions. Instead, we shifted our festivities to Friday. He dressed up as Max from Where the Wild Things Are and we “trick or treated” at Gigi and Papaw’s house, where he was very excited to ring the doorbell (about twenty times). We then snuggled down with my parents to watch It’s The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown and eat pumpkin cake.

In making news, I had a sudden flash of inspiration to make an autumnal patchwork quilt from a few bundles of fat quarters I had been saving. I have only made one quilt prior when I was in a sewing class in elementary school so it was a fun challenge to cut and piece the quilt. It’s nowhere near perfect, but it was a treat to make and I think Michael will love having it on his bed. He enjoys pointing to the squares and calling out their colors.

Now I’m in the process of hand-quilting it. I’m using a simple running stitch along the edges of the patches with a contrasting sashiko thread. Michael loves helping out — he’s getting quite good at pulling the needle through the cloth and batting.

I’m still working on a few knitting projects — I have a few I must finish before Christmas. I also have a trip to the post office that’s long overdue: when I finally mail off some of the baby gifts I’ve finished, I’ll post pictures of them too.

Jake’s birthday is coming up, and so is Michael’s name day. Our church sang Many Years to them this past Sunday, and Michael insisted on going up with Grandpa to kiss the cross and hold his icon of St Michael.

Michael is loving the cooler weather and my renewed energy in this second trimester. We’ve been outside more and more, and he helped Grandma and Grandpa prepare their garden for winter. He also found a blue belly lizard with Grandpa, and loved seeing its vibrant colors .

He’s such a joy, and I love him so much. We’ve been having fun coloring and baking together, and snuggling and watching Little Bear (his current favorite show). He has a tendency to speak in the third person (Michael play outside! Michael eat dinner!) which is absolutely adorable.

He still loves vehicles, and trucks above all. Unfortunately, for some reason, he struggles with saying the “tr” in “truck”. Usually, he substitutes “f” instead. This makes for awkward and hilarious situations in public whenever he excitedly and loudly points out big trucks.

November is one of my favorite months: I’m relishing autumn with the anticipation of Christmas on the horizon. I love gift-giving and gift-making more than I can put into words. It gives me such joy.

I also used to participate in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) every November. The month was full of magic and storytelling as I raced to write 50,000 words with thousands of other writers around the world. While I don’t have the capacity to do that this year, I still cherish the memories it gave me and look forward to my future Novembers full of novelling.

One of the things motherhood has taught me is that dormant skills are not lost skills. I still love writing fiction. Even though I am not in a place where I can hone my fiction writing skills, that doesn’t mean I’ll never tell stories again. Who knows — maybe the skills I’m learning through motherhood and blog-writing right now are preparing me to write better fiction. Not right now is not a death sentence, and patience grows many virtues.

So as I let my fiction writing skills rest, I lean into the joys of motherhood and knitting and baking and homemaking, and the joys of sharing all of it with you.