|My dad and one of his newest and greatest great- granddaughters|
Ages: Oldest (almost 88) to remind us where our family came from, and youngest (almost four months) to remind us where it's heading. The future is pure cuteness.
Temperature: A Thanksgiving-ish 40s. Poor Baby's First Thanksgiving already is a tough kid, but her little tootsies were chilly by the time we finished taking pictures.
Dinner rolls: I've done the math several times, and it appears I baked (caution: math ahead) [(recipe x 4) + recipe x 3)] x 64 rolls per recipe = 448 rolls between Wednesday and Friday. As of last night, there are none left.
Turkeys: The human kind, of which we had 28.
Turkeys: The fowl kind, of which we had three.
Pies (pumpkin and pecan): One dozen. For 28 people. I believe you can do the math here. Much Older Sister is the pie maven of the family and spent Best Day of the Year Eve in the kitchen, bless her.
Potatoes: 20 pounds (Yukon gold) mashed; 12 pounds (sweet) casseroled.
Kinds of dressing: Two, giblet-ed and non-giblet-ed.
Number of people eating giblet-ed dressing: One! It's MINE! ALL MINE! MWAHAHAHA!
People missing who should have been here: Seven (nephew with temperature of 103 plus his not-yet-ill family). Also a brother and other nieces and nephews we don't count in the missing because they knew in advance they weren't coming, but we missed them anyway.
Dearly missed: My mom, the original and still the best roll-maker of the family. My mother-in-law, who would have made short work of decorating the tables.
Days until the next Best Day of the Year: Too many.