Lovers: What it is really like to give thanks....

Good morning, Seattlites! We wish you all a wonderfully happy Thanksgiving from across the pond.

It is approaching 2 in the afternoon here and I feel like it might be beneficial to document what it is really like to spend an American holiday away from home. The sky is heavy with impending snow, the streets are crowded like black Friday, and turkey is hard to come by.

I woke up to a perfect cup of coffee with my beautiful partner- who sweetly whispered to me her gratitude for our love. We cuddled, read, and happily traded in our normal speedy departure for a relaxed morning. By 11am I was at the grocery store and Jeri was at the gym. This is a true anomaly. You might find me at the grocers at this time, of course, but sweet Jeri has not been able to get to the gym in the middle of a work day for about 9 months. For this, I am grateful.

During her hour at the gym and my hour at the store I bought the following (see below), blowing our grocery budget for the day...

If you cannot tell from the photograph, there is no turkey on this conveyer belt. When I inquired in the meat department I was told that they "forget to order turkey breasts, but do have ground turkey." Hmmmm. (We are not in Kansas anymore, are we?) While bagging my groceries I thought about the excess turkeys filling the stores back in the states. Not one store would ever dream of "forgetting" to order turkey. So many birds, and not one turkey breast to be found here in Chelsea. I did purchase another little piece of meat for my sweetie, but the vegetarian in me considers this a small victory for those left gobbling out in the countryside. For this, I am grateful.

I returned home and while unpacking groceries I start to cry. I made myself a cup of tea and though about calling home. Even though preparations for the big meal start early, I knew no one would want a 4am wake-up call. Time to get busy thinking about the menu, and preparing what I can in advance. I start measuring ingredients for the pumpkin bread (which will be our "pudding") and think of Jeri's mom. Every time I bake I think about her. She used to make everything from scratch, and would mix all ingredients with a wooden spatula. No magi-mix or kitchen-aid to help. I pray for her guidance as I carefully measure out the pumpkin, the flour, the sugar. Jeri comes downstairs and before heading off to work, gives me a long, warm hug. For this, I am grateful.

I begin to prepare the stuffing next. Since Pepperidge Farm comes from Connecticut, I know I am on my own here. I slice and toast a loaf of crusty bread, and then tear it apart bit by bit. This is time consuming. Since it is eerily quiet in the house I put on some music and my mind wanders to thoughts of my family. I imagine Elizabeth and Theo running (or crawling) underfoot. I think of Dad patting my head as he does a preliminary taste of whatever is cooking. I think of Mom eagerly running back to the one grocery store still open to grab whatever item we surely forgot. I think of my sister adding salt to everything. For them, I am grateful.

Stuffing from scratch

Before I know it the pumpkin bread is done. I cannot believe that it did not collapse in the middle! I really screwed up the recipe the last few times I have made it, and the result has been embarrassing. It looks like mom was with me on this one. For this, I am grateful.

I stand in the kitchen and wonder what to do next. In true melodramatic fashion, I feel like I am becoming stronger. I think about the true meaning of this holiday, the discovery of America. I think about where we live now, I think of the "home" that exists in our hearts, and I think of Jeri and I bound together in a way only we can understand. I think about this journey...the 9 months of learning, of leaving, of watching, of grieving, of living, of loving, of listening, of growing. For this, I am grateful.

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Well, things are in full swing now. Jeri has returned from the office to do a quick change before running out to a client party that she has to attend. She managed to open a bottle of wine and snap a quick picture of me cooking. (She also was able to sneak in a slice of pumpkin bread even though I wanted it to look pretty for the party of 2 later this evening.) I have now completed the stuffing and it is staying warm in the oven. I have begun to boil the potatoes in preparation for mashing, and have juiced the oranges for the cranberry sauce. I will cook the meat and veggie patty when Jeri calls to say she is on her way home so that it is piping hot for her arrival. This is an atypical Thanksgiving for sure, but it is turning out to look (and smell) like the traditional holiday. For this, I am grateful.

Stuffing (sans bird)

Cream Cheese Frosting

Cooking

Heading back to work

Jeri just sent me a message saying she was on her way home to me. For this, I am thankful.

Dinner is done, the tryptophan is taking effect (despite the lack of turkey), and we are blissfully settled in to cuddle on the couch. I missed all of you today-- our families, our friends, our cat, our home, our stores with a plethora of turkey. What I know though is that I now get to hold the love of my life in my arms after impressing her with an entire Thanksgiving meal made from scratch. For this, I am grateful.