Post Thanksgiving Ramblings

This weekend was just what we needed around here.

No work, no blogging, no baseball, no school, and no guests.


Dear Family: you know I love you, but you know I’m also the worst hostess EVER. So this isn’t to say I didn’t want you here this weekend, it’s just to say that it was nice not to remind myself of my failings I have when it comes to people staying at my house. I just suck at it.

But you, my family, know this.

I am not a big cook- I mean, I can do a few things that turn out alright. Like this Candy Cane Cherry Danish. Dang, this was good, yo!


But planning a full on meal to impress people over the age of 13 is another story. I get a little twitchy around the holidays trying to figure out how best to balance what I do well and what I don’t do well and being an adult about it all.

This year my cousin saved my turkey (literally) by hosting the whole family at her place.

We had a FABULOUS meal at her home with three different turkeys, ham, stuffing, and all the traditional fixings. Cousin Karyn, now, that’s one girl who knows how to host people.

Delish. We rolled back home happy and stuffed!

Oh- and I ran. I RAN, Y’ALL!

And it was good. Really good. Like, the perfect morning with a heaven sent sunrise good!


Except that, I wore an old pair of shoes and the wrong socks and got two huge raw spots on my heels. Except for the searing pain in every step from mile 3 to 4, it was good.

After nine years of running, you’d think I’d know not to do things like that anymore.

Why is this news? Welp, I’ve been in a bit of a rut with exercise lately. Especially with running. It’s just simply not happening, and there’s no excuse for it other than I don’t wanna do it. And if you know me, you know that if I don’t wanna do something, I won’t do it, no matter what logical argument you put in front of me.

So stubborn. So stupid. Oy.

The Captain America 5K and Doctor Strange 10K were pure muscle memory, and I’m so thankful that I had a decent time on those courses.

So this weekend was important. It felt good; it felt right, and I know it’s where I belong. Huzzah!


So what if I planned to run 8 and called it at 4? Plans aren’t the goals; the goals are the goals and plans are just a way to get you there. I’ll still get there and make the 8 I planned happen this week.

Because running is a gift, and this Thanksgiving, I’m thankful that I get to do it.

We also went to work on this house. After being here for two years, it’s time for some major clean up around here. The back yard has a garden wall that needs to be completed, and the closets all needed purging. HOLY WOW, did we purge!

Costume runner problems: the stack in the back are all the costumes I “need” to keep. The stack on the front are the regular clothes. Wut.


I said goodbye to my favorite 1990’s “uniform” of Gap denim overalls. Yes, I kept them this long for sentimental reasons. But I had to come to terms with the reality of my 42-year-old body.

Even if someone out there is wearing them again, it’s not gonna be me. Ahem.

There’s going to be some deep cleaning and some painting and all kinds of fun projects going on over here. And if you think you know where this is all going, well, you are probably right. Shhhh… we’ll talk about it later.

How did you enjoy your Thanksgiving weekend? Family, friends & travel or quiet chill at home?


  • MomOf2 says:

    Just found your blog – you are hilarious!
    I’ve been feeling the same way about exercise – I don’t want to do it – but to be clear I don’t want to do it until my to-do list is all checked off, the kids are set, dinner is prepped… Yeah, never totally done. Hoping to read more from you – and maybe get a little motivation going!

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Patty Holliday

Patty is a 40-ish mother of four living in Virginia. A bit geeky, sometimes sarcastic, lover of a candid confession. She's trying to love running, she swears. But much like her marathon, it’s taking a very long time. Ahem. She's searching for the perfect way to balance family, work, travel, and fitness. Perfect defined as high on fun, low on guilt.

TMOM Travel Writer