thanksgivings

Thanksgiving was weird.  Leah went to class and except for  the English ex-pat manager of the Smoke 'N' Booze telling me to enjoy my holiday as I was leaving with my duty-free wine, there wasn't any mention of the day at all, really.  Like, duh, obviously, but it still felt bizarre.  I missed being at home, but I could imagine, I think pretty well, what was going on. On the morning of Thanksgiving, my mother was in a nightgown/housecoat with her hair in a sweaty ponytail, stuttering harried orders to get some pot or another from the basement.  My mother, if you don't know her, cannot find words when she's stressed. So she'll just say whatever comes to mind first, which leaves her frustrated and the listener amused, like, "Get the...the toaster off my bed and make sure it's folded".  She always ends these statements with, "You know what I mean", and surprisingly, we always do. My father vacuumed and made the antipasto.  Around 1pm, the McCues started trickling in, and there were manhattans and scotches on rocks and then finally, dinner was served, and maybe it was a little late, but oh wow, everything is so delicious, Paula! (it really is - I especially missed my mom's stuffing. and the lima beans. and the stuffed mushrooms. oh, and the other mushrooms.) And my cousin Deedee didn't talk to anyone until she had seconds, because she can't waste time with conversation: she's only got around twenty minutes until her stomach signals to her brain that it's full, after all.  Sometimes people say what they're thankful for and there's always a ton of laughing and everyone is SO freaking loud. I was glad that I was able to imagine it so well, because even though I made a turkey dinner for two (using the weird, cross-section cut of drumstick that we realized as we took our first bites STILL HAD QUILLS IN IT) and we tried to skype with our families, it wasn't the same. 

gravy boat mug

The next day we met with some friends for a potluck, and it was there that we got uncomfortably, painfully, Thanksgivingly full. The kind of full where it's impossible to sit, but standing's no good either, and shit, laying down hurts in a whole new way. There were multiple desserts, was what really did it - I'm looking at you, peanut butter pie and you, chocolate tart with the whipped cream and the raspberry sauce.  I brought a pumpkin pie pudding type thing (because we don't have an oven here), that was a no-bake situation using gelatin, which made me nervous that it was going to be like pumpkin jello, but it was smooth and creamy and really delicious, and made me want to be the "Such a hit! If I could give this recipe 10 stars, I would!" person on the reviews.  But really, if I could give it ten stars, I would, and next year I'm going to pour it into a gingersnap crust and share it with my family.