Thanksgiving

And again, the holiday itself was not nearly as worrisome as the anticipation of it. And even the anticipation wasn't too bad this time. More, it sort of felt surprising that Thanksgiving was here at all. Being in California, the weather isn't exactly giving us clues as to the season. And my internal clock stopped in July, so while the calender keeps marching on, I continue to remain bewildered as each new landmark arrives. High Holidays, birthdays, our due date and now Thanksgiving: none of them make sense internally. I wonder when I'll catch up.

So when Mom started querying about purchasing pre-brined turkeys and designing menus, I just nodded and let myself get pulled along. I offered to host, but I guess that is about all the preparation I did, because Mom and Dad showed up at our place yesterday with bags and bags of groceries, including the pre-brined turkey. It was pretty funny: they are real troupers.

And then, one step at a time, we created Thanksgiving. Mom and I pulled out the Cuisinart and made my grandmother's stuffing, while Bruno and Dad geeked out in the living room looking at potential new cars. We cleaned and trussed and stuffed the bird, and soon my olfactory senses were telling me it was Thanksgiving. We made two cranberry sauces: one plain for Dad and one with jalapeño for the rest of us. We left the aromas and the warmth of the kitchen to walk through the neighborhood, saying hello to the new friends and strangers along the way. We came back and played cards, stopping every half-hour to baste the bird. Then everyone got in on the action, as we simultaneously set the table, made the brussel sprouts and the sweet potatoes, took the bird out of the oven, made the gravy, carved the bird, discovered (as we do EVERY SINGLE YEAR) that we pulled it out too early and the meat, while juicy, was still pink, energetically debated the best way to handle the situation, and decided (as we do EVERY SINGLE YEAR) to carve it and then put the pieces back in the oven for ten minutes (under a tinfoil hood, to protect the moisture).

Eventually, everything made it to the table and was eaten. And surprisingly, I did find my way to being thankful.