It's tomorrow, gang. Thanksgiving.
I have no idea if your house is in an uproar, or if you are
relaxing on a beach somewhere. Are you waiting excitedly at the airport for your kid to come home? Or are you standing in line at the supermarket with a cart full of potatoes and apples and string beans? Perhaps the in-laws are driving you mad, or you have the wine all picked out to bring to a gathering of friends far from home. Maybe you are at the gym, frantically trying to burn calories ahead of time, or looking helplessly at tail lights on the freeway as you head out of town.
Maybe you are standing on a street corner in Missouri,
weeping. And praying for families everywhere who will have trouble finding ways to be grateful.
Wherever you are, and whatever you are doing, I'm thankful for you.
I am in my sister's kitchen. The fridge is bursting, but we have a plan*. It involves
tried-and-true mac n' cheese,
award-winning apple pie, and a
total experiment in grilled, flattened turkey. There will be
sausage stuffing and mashed potatoes and challah in case that goes terribly wrong. Even if
everything goes awry, it won't matter in the great scheme of things.
We spent the afternoon yesterday at Arlington National Cemetery, watching leaves drift down as shots rang out in salute to a newly fallen soldier joining so many others there.
Then the sun went down and the sky was so stunningly on fire we just sat in the car, gaping**.
Two days ago, my daughter and I had a giggling fit in the National Gallery, and ninjas brought us popcorn in recliners. My niece and husband have started this year's
Lego project.
My son is here...giant and loud and perfect.
Soon, we will hold hands over our full plates and take turns awkwardly trying to express aloud the feelings of profound gratitude that fill our hearts. I will likely not mention the sunset, the giggles, the comfort of
my husband's warm feet against my cold ones in the night,
my sister's indulgent spoiling of all of us,
my niece's shrieks of laughter, or the way my son felt when I hugged him.
I will probably just say, "I'm thankful for my family" and squeeze the hand I'm holding a little tighter.
Here are a few ideas for leftovers you can thank me for later:
For the turkey:
Diane's Turkey Enchiladas
For the stuffing and mashed potatoes:
Thanksgiving Eggs
And, for the cranberry sauce:
Shortbread Jam Tart
Intriguing, but untested:
Mashed Potato Waffles from Serious Eats and
Crispy Stuffing Cakes with Eggs from iamafoodblog.
Virtual thank you's are fine on these, folks. No hand squeezing required.
* It is a ridiculous plan, involving two complete Thanksgiving dinners within 24 hours and hijacking her neighbor's refrigerator. Don't ask.
** There was traffic on the beltway, so we kind of had to slow down anyway. No photo can do this sunset justice, as my stricken daughter wailed at us repeatedly from the back seat. She was bereft not to be able to blow her Instagram followers away. Speaking of Instragram, you can
follow me there now. Although, according to my daughter, I'm doing it wrong.
