I come from one of those familys that do a lot together––and holidays are a big deal with us. I think this mostly just came about when we were younger and my mom took advantage of having blocks of days off school as excuses to wisk the 6 of us away somewhere that we only had each other as acquaintances. It started out as normal holidays––Christmas, New Years, Easter and then escalated to Thanksgiving and MLK Weekend and then we started getting taken out of school to go to Disney World over Valentines Day––"family love is important" haha but I wasn't complaining.
The most recent of holidays––Thanksgiving––was a big debate in the household as of late. In the past, we'd host Thanksgiving a day early and then escape to a mountain resort and deck ourselves out in satin, velvet and sequins and enjoy the company of the six of us around white table clothed 19 piece dining sets.
Thanksgiving was always a novelty holiday for the Bowers, we had lots to be thankful for.
Over the past few years my dad has been super into this new hobby he picked up on –– fly fishing. Super cool, super quiet, super old soul hobby. He loves it. He loves it so much that he wanted all of us to love it. Which led to our 2017 Alternative Thanksgiving Vacation––Homewaters Fly Fishing Club in the middle of God's green earth of nowhere. So we placed bets on who would kill who first––the 6 of us in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with minimal cell service--and set out to the deep Pennsylvania mountians.
The saying "Dad's always know best" stood true. We didn't kill each other and to our surprise the cabin was beautiful, the fishing was fun and the air was crisp. Six glasses of Pinot, a failed Christmas card shoot and the "Smallest Catch Award" later, I'm pretty sure the Thanksgiving celebrations in satin dresses and fancy meals are over for good.
Hand me my weighters. See you again soon, Homewaters.