Thanksgiving on the Mountain, Vol. 4

For what Joe pronounced was the fourth year in a row, our family celebrated Thanksgiving on Monteagle Mountain, in a house on Tennessee Avenue, in the center of Sewanee's campus.  I've gotten to know Ted, the owner of the house, well enough that he texted me this fall to ask if we wanted the house, again, for Thanksgiving this year.  Someone else wanted to rent it but he gave us first dibs, which was incredibly thoughtful.  

It's been a bit of a hectic fall, although November at work was relatively light for me after a 5-day trial I had scheduled went away when the underlying case settled.  I'll pay for it in December, though, as I am about to get slammed based on what I have on my calendar.  The point being is that it was nice to get away to the Mountain for a few days and spend time together, as a family, with nothing scheduled.  No work meetings, no practices, no games.  Just family time. 

As I've written many times before in this space, for me there is something rejuvenating about spending time on the Mountain.  Monteagle or Sewanee.  Life slows down, so much so, in fact, that I often lose track of what day it is.  That's a nice feeling because in my normal life, everything is scheduled down to the minute or so it seems.  Drop off at school, meetings, court, mediations, pick-ups from practice, games, etc.  Run, run, run.  Not just for me but for all of us.  

Jude and the boys drove up Tuesday evening, after work.  I worked late and hadn't packed, so I stayed in Nashville.  I had to finish up a couple of projects Wednesday morning, so I didn't actually get away until early afternoon on Wednesday.  I could feel myself relaxing on the drive up, though, especially so as I got off I-24 at the Monteagle exit.  Home.  

Jude's parents joined us for Thanksgiving lunch on Thursday.  While Jude and her mom heated up the food, including a turkey courtesy of Martin's BBQ, ham, and various sides, Jim, the boys, and I watched football on the television in the living room.  Unlike in past years, the miracle of streaming allowed us to watch all of the pro and college football we wanted.  

After a bountiful meal and desserts from Meridee's Bakery in Franklin, we hung out with Jane and Jim.  To avoid driving after dark, they left mid-afternoon to drive back to Nashville.  That night, we watch more football and ate leftover, both Thanksgiving traditions.  

Friday was a classic day on the Mountain, on campus, for us.  JP got up early and went for a six or seven mile run.  Joe and I ran three miles together, a mile or so of which was on a logging trail I had never run on before.  We finished with a couple of laps around the Sewanee soccer field across the street from our house.  Later, we all went to the Fowler Center.  I played basketball with JP while Jude played tennis, indoors, with Joe.  Then, we switched, and I played basketball with Joe while Jude played tennis with JP.  Still later, JP, Joe, and I got in some work on the Sewanee baseball field while Jude hiked the Fiery Gizzard.

We also watched Talladega Nights:  The Ballad of Ricky Bobby, which the boys loved.  Because things so often come full circle, I remember when Jude and I saw that move at the Green Hills movie theater in 2006 with a bunch of the frisbee crew on opening night.  The theater was so crowded that Jude and I had to sit on the front row.  That was before JP was born.  It's hard to recall the details of those days with any clarity.  That was our life before children.  It was ephemeral.  

Joe and I watched a couple of episodes of Andor on the Disney Channel.  Joe loves all things Marvel and Star Wars, unlike JP.  I like that Joe has his thing, separate from JP, and that he and I share it.  It was fun, snuggled up on the king size bed downstairs with Joe, watching Andor on my iPad.

Sunday morning, Jude and JP headed back to Nashville early.  Joe and I walked to church at All Saints Chapel.  We were greeted by Rev. Peter Gray outside the church when we walked up, which made me feel like it was going to be a good service.  And it was.  The Episcopal Church is so special to me.  It's where I was baptized - years ago - at St. Paul's in Franklin by Rev. Bob Cowperthwaite.  The homily that Rev. Gray gave, about kindness, resonated with me.  Joe and I talked about it on the walk home.  All Saints Chapel is such a beautiful church and the intimacy of the service - maybe 10 or 15 people there - made our time there even more memorable on Sunday morning.  

There is so much I love about Sewanee and, really, all of it was encapsulated in our annual Thanksgiving holiday visit.