Thanksgiving in Seattle.

Our first Thanksgiving Day in Seattle and the Allen household woke to a familiarly grey and soggy day typical of the Pacific Northwest. With family adventure in mind, undeterred we donned our rain gear and took the short drive to Carkeek Park hoping to maybe see some chum salmon making their run up Piper’s Creek. We weren’t the only ones with that thought and we fruitlessly joined the other hardy souls peering down into shallow rushing water from viewpoints along the path side. There was not a single salmon to be seen. From what I have read they are not plentiful though and one would need to be quite patient to spot one, and we were not in the company of such rare children. It was also immediately taxing trying to persuade Sam and (mainly) Bea that although it was indeed a wet day already, trying to launch themselves into the icy water was still not the smartest of ideas. We diverted away from our quest and up the hill towards the playground to keep the clamouring at bay, then managed to lure little legs further up onto the North Bluff trail. No bribing with lollipops was needed for this hike, eagerness to examine giant leaves dropped from the trees, and collect natural artifacts along the way kept the children’s spirits buoyant.

At trail’s end a little meadow was waiting and once out from the tree cover the heavens really opened with big fat raindrops falling fast. Yet we had no complaints from happy children who picked up long straight sticks and had to be deterred from being knights and contentedly waling on each other. I spent the slow descent back down the North Meadow Hillclimb trail doing my best to ensure neither merry child ended up impaled like a kebab, and avoiding a sharp stick to the person myself. Tricky stuff. All in all a very successful outing, and we were back home in time to start dinner.

Thanksgiving dinner was a full Sunday roast, complete with parsnips and roast potatoes, and cooked entirely by Bill. Back at the homestead he had announced that he was in charge and shooed me out of the kitchen. No argument from me! He did a cracking job and cooked our meal to perfection.

Thanksgiving Dinner was only marred by a vacant space at our table. Poor little Bea was tuckered out from her exertion on the trail and was to be found snoozing peacefully on the sofa. I tried my best to wake her and she sleepily joined us for all of two mouthfuls before slinking back underneath her blanket and rejoining her dreams. Happy Thanksgiving Day Bea!

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