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We’ve had so many guests in recent weeks that it feels empty at the lake when they leave.

But when I think about why we left the city for the summer, it’s for these moments. The quiet moments. The days that actually let you unwind.

The days when you get to explore new places…

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…stroll with the dog…

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And watch the sunset from a new vantage point…

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I love the solitude that comes with these quiet moments. Life becomes less frenzied, giving us time to pause and appreciate the little things; puddles…

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…a dog under the covers…

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April is a special month, my husband and I share birthdays 10 days apart, and 10 days later we get to celebrate my dog Jackson’s birthday.

I’ll be honest, I know that a multibillion dollar pet industry sells treats, clothes, and raw/paleo food to our favorite companions, but I’m a bit stingy when it comes to pet gifts.

Because as much as he seems human, he does in fact eat frozen goose poop, which leads me to believe that these gifts would generally go unappreciated.

That being said, I do like to celebrate his birthday, and give him a better day than normal (normal meaning a long walk in the morning, unfettered access to my face for kisses and breakfast crumbs, and the ability to sit in my lap while I attempt to work).

Just like Kim & Kanye might opt for a lavish birthday weekend in place of a simple celebration on the day of, we likewise decided that several days of festivities would be more suitable for our furry friend.

We started our Saturday with a leisurely walk along the Hudson.

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Lauren wanted me to take some pictures of her with Jack, I obliged. The problem was that ungluing him from my side was upsetting, and it was his birthday after all, so I let him do what made him feel comfortable. Which was howl at the moon and beg for an escape…

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…and then pin me against the barrier for what I would imagine to be a pretty serious make out session. But as much as I love him, I can’t always give a brother what he wants.

Poor Jack had to settle for some companionship of the less frisky variety.

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Even Sam and Lauren got caught up in the moment.

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Leftovers Collage

This year Thanksgiving was a total success. No sickness to take us down, we were a crew of entirely healthy adults and kids, the universe was looking down on us.

I was thankful for many things this weekend….

To my neighbor Mike for keeping his fridge bare so that I didn’t have to store my Thanksgiving dishes on a windowsill.

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For the same neighbor for bringing me flowers on Thanksgiving day. Even after I’d banged on his front door and dragged him out of his shower to unlock it. (For future reference, Mike, please don’t lock your door on Thanksgiving day. That episode gave me an ulcer and female pattern baldness all at once. But thank you, as always, for lending me some of your fridge space.)

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I was thankful that Rodney didn’t see me jam my butter-lathered hands up a turkey’s rear end while still wearing my wedding ring. I’m likewise thankful that even after all of the butt jamming, I still couldn’t find the gizzard bag. It’s a Thanksgiving tradition for me to cook the turkey with the bag still inside, and as you all know, it’s best not to muck with tradition.

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I was thankful for our new thrift store art that makes me so joyously happy every day. Even if the kids keep bumping into it and making it ever so slightly off-kilter. At least it’s less aggravating than the Sharpie line drawing that now covers our faux Eames rocking chair.

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Today is a day for giving thanks. And thanks we give – for health, for family, for friendships, and happiness.

We sit down to a table laden with food. Our treasured recipes, the soup, the salads, the sides, and that most-loved Thanksgiving food of all: the turkey.

It’s easy to get swept up in the romance of Thanksgiving – the traditions, and the excitement of seeing friends or family members who we don’t often see. The meal, in all of its splendor, often becomes a reflection of what the cook did with the ingredients, not the ingredients themselves.

Sometimes I need to remind myself that it’s not just about what I’ve put on the table, but what came before that. The farmers who dedicate their lives to growing our crops, and the animals whose lives were sacrificed.

As a Canadian, I can’t vote in the US where I now make my home, so I vote with my everyday purchases. At the top of this list, comes the food that I buy. I’m not perfect when it comes to buying food. I have a weakness for junky salt & vinegar chips, and the occasional processed grilled cheese sandwich. But when it comes to buying meat, there is no question: it needs to have been humanely raised by farmers who care about the animals, and treat them well from birth to slaughter.

This year, I bought our turkey at the Knickerbocker Market in New York City. The store owner and butcher Mike is a food scientist, and knows his meat better than just about anyone I know. Having built a relationship with Mike over the years, I know that whatever I buy from him has met his own high quality standards.

A respect for food is something that I hope to pass on to my kids. Even though my kids are young, it’s important to teach them to be thankful for what we eat. I want them to understand that choosing our foods is always just that – a choice. We can pick the good stuff – the foods that have been farmed or grown with care, or we can choose the junk.

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