This year for the first time in decades we’ll be away for Thanksgiving. The weekend before, our nephew is getting married in San Franscisco, a city I’ve never visited but from what I hear has a dangerous, Siren-like effect on all who visit. We’re staying on through the rest of the week, and and thus–no turkey roasting, stuffing, basting, cursing as it takes way, way longer than predicted! No mashing of potatoes or burning of gravy! Who am I kidding! My husband does 99% of this meal–I get off easy compared to most of my friends.
Still, there’s something intoxicating about kicking tradition to the curb. The main thing I will miss is a custom I’ve foisted on my family for years, and that no one but me really enjoys: going around the table saying what we’re thankful for. So, I’ll do it here, where no one will interupt me and ask if there’s more cranberry relish.
This year, I say thank you for
**A day like today when I got to spend time with my third grade reading buddies AND toast a 75th birthday–how’s that for stretching friendship across the decades?
**The New York Times
**The pure yellow of ginko leaves in fall
**Tom’s Midnight Garden, a book I only just discovered and into whose arms I hopelessly fell
**My nieces, aged 5 and 8, who this week set the table for my sister’s anniversary dinner with a sign that said: REVERSED FOR ANIVERSERRY
**Black cherry tomatoes
**Both the child who, at a recent school visit asked me, “So, is writing your job or is it fun?” and for being able to answer, “Yes.”