I did the math last night: 20 minutes per pound meant 4 hours and 45 minutes in the oven, and so I set my alarm for 5am to have the turkey in the oven by 6, and laid back down for a bit before the girls came running into our room.

Imagine my surprise then when I went to baste the bird and found the button popped and the meat quite literally sliding off the bones into the roasting pan – an hour ahead of schedule. That was a new one for me, being early with the meal.

We departed from several tradtions this year, foregoing the mashed potatoes and bread and green bean casserole, and opting for a marinated bean salad and carrots with chives instead. Red cabbage, stuffing and gravy from scratch, and real homemade whipped cream on our pie. No cream of something soups or overly processed ingredients, and we’ve all seemed to avoid the bloat.

And in other ways, we honored the traditions of times passed. We brought the Coolidge dishes out of storage for our meal – the simple pattern that laid the table of J’s great-grandmother all through my mother-in-law’s childhood. Our turkey sizzled in a roasting pan gifted to J’s grandmother on the occasion of her wedding to his grandpa; it still lives in its original box, and looks like new.

We ate early, and J is already off to his shift at the hospital, working the holiday as so many do. My parents are gone, my girls are sleeping, and I’ve just finished my second piece of pie, watching the Macy’s parade replay.

A calm and simple day with family. I wish the same for you and yours!