My Thanksgiving took me away from the spitting mist of Seattle and into the sunny, delightful arms of California. And it wasn’t the Southern California Duuudee braahh Kardashians ThanKsgiving, but rather the gorgeous, peaceful Bay Area. Part of my trip was to my Aunt and Uncle’s house in Orinda, a small town outside of Oakland, about 30 minutes from the city. It’s been a childhood favorite of mine ever since I was a toddler, and I’m glad I can substitute the cross-country flight for a two hour jump down the west coast.
These photos are from my aunt and uncle’s house, except for Reno, a golden retriever that belongs to a family friend. We spent thanksgiving with friends who brought out the tequila and Taylor 6-series to play some classic rock as the sun set. Not California at all, right? Chill, brah. The flowers and beautiful bed made my stay incredibly comfortable.
Childhood memories coming in – this is where generations of cousins, grandchildren, and great grandchildren learned how to swim. It’s my grandparents backyard, the host of countless birthdays, holidays and sunburns in Sacramento. My grandpa would give you a dollar if you could jump off the rock and swim across the pool. It’s a rite of passage for every Ternes kid. It’s unfortunate that in fall you can’t see the oranges growing on the large tree by the power lines, but in the summer the whole garden is full of fresh produce.
The final stop was at my uncle’s ranch, where my dad’s relatives all got together for a follow-up Thanksgiving on Saturday. The ranch is in the middle of a wide open plain and beautiful scenery, perfect for the 30-something of us that showed up for smoked turkey and french delicacies. We took our plates outside and sat at a long table to enjoy the sunshine and stuffing our faces.