Number 9: Pinecone Tablescape

A Thanksgiving Cautionary Tale

The NYTimes captured it best when Food Writer Andy Baraghani wrote of the “hopeful, organized, slightly naïve” feeling when you are planning for Thanksgiving, but it’s so far away that anything, and, unfortunately, everything seems possible.

In my family, I host Thanksgiving and everyone brings food. In fact, so much of the meal is provided by others that I find myself with, dare I say it, unspent Thanksgiving creativity. So Monday evening, a week and half before Thanksgiving,  when I was well and truly in Baraghani’s “hopeful, organized, and slightly naïve” mindset, I found myself scrolling through Good Housekeeping’s “58 Beautiful Thanksgiving Table Setting Ideas to Try This Year.” My phone kept doing that annoying thing where it suddenly backtracks and you have to scroll down to where you were in the story so I never saw all 58 settings, but I saw number 10 seven times, the one with the metallic-painted corn husks.

I saw enough that when I woke up in the middle of the night that night, my mind went to table settings and pinecones. One of the settings had pinecones nestled on a wooden tray, with candles and greenery and maybe pears. Or were the pears with a different setting and were there mini pumpkins on the tray? In the middle of the night, things can get confused.

In any case, I hadn’t forgotten the pinecones or the table settings when, bright and early Tuesday morning I went out to get my paper (yes, I do still read the paper copy, which my kids assure me is Not Typical). I didn’t just fish the paper out of my front ivy. I kept on walking. I walked to my next door neighbor’s house and examined the ground under their evergreen tree. No pinecones.

I went to the corner and another evergreen. Plenty of pinecones on the branches, but nary a one on the ground. It was early. No one was around. Could I pluck a few? I decided that stolen pinecones were not the Thanksgiving vibe I was after. I left the cones where they were.

I backtracked past my house, around the corner, and down the side street to another pinecone possibility. Again, no fallen cones. Was it too early in the season? Would I have to abandon my search?!

In the afternoon my son invited me to join him on a dog walk. We went over to Zadie’s house and headed out after Zadie and I had, appropriately, effusively greeted each other. Zadie’s a golden retriever whose love knows no bounds. Needless to say, the feeling’s mutual.

We found pinecones everywhere. Zadie had led us right to them. But as much as I love Zadie, I found myself unexpectedly thinking of someone else, the one who came before her, Stella.

Stella was a dog who knew her pinecones. She was a connoisseur. Each cone was given careful consideration. A select few she would hold in her mouth. Possibly even walk with it a bit. And then put it down in favor of a more desirable candidate. The process could not be rushed. Stella would have understood my pinecone mania. She would’ve embraced my search.

As I piled pinecones into a commandeered unused poop bag, Zadie kept walking. She prefers sticks, mulch, hunks of turf, the odd paper towel.

Memories sneak up on you in odd ways. Although I was happy to find the cones, I was missing my former pal.

Note: I decided that the sap in the pinecones was not ideal for my tablecloth. Check out the photo showing how I arranged the cones on my mantle! I’m now thinking I’ll go with the pears and candles motif for the table. There’s still plenty of time to decide….The mini pumpkins are also calling to me….