Each holiday we find ourselves thinking back to the last few years and reminiscing about where we were and what the day was like. Two years ago, the first year of our trip, found us in Santa Barbara at my sister’s house, spending the day with family. Last year we were in Gueydan, Louisiana, writing intently, spending Thanksgiving itself at dinner with Pastor Doug and Mona Beth, followed up by an evening visit to Heuetta and Kenneth.
This year we were alone at home, sitting on the porch enjoying the fabulous weather, or flopped on the couch with the doors open, watching movies and reading.
Tuesday night Alex showed up at home for a few hours after work, and handed us some cash, telling us we should go get food for a fun Thanksgiving dinner. Chelsea and I were delighted. Not wanting to hassle with the crowds on Wednesday, we asked if we could use the car right then to visit Wal-Mart. So there we were, at midnight, wandering the deserted aisles of Wal-Mart looking for the makings of Thanksgiving dinner (we got everything we wanted except a turkey).
What a night we had after our midnight shopping spree. Though we got to bed by two, we were still awake and talking at two-thirty when Alex left. Chelsea drifted off, but I was still awake at 3:15 when Alex returned, rustling bags and packages in the kitchen. He left within fifteen minutes, but I was incurably curious about what he’d been doing, so I got up to check it out. Meanwhile Chelsea had awakened; there we were like two little kids up way past our bedtime, tiptoeing around the house at three thirty in the morning.
Chelsea faded out right away, but at four I was convinced I heard the rogue cat that’s been tormenting us the last few months with kamikaze raids into our house. I leaped up, grabbed the flashlight, and at 4:15 was outside with the flashlight, staring around the yard (I missed him).
Then at six (after about an hour and a half of sleep) our cat Sasha figured out that I hadn’t pulled the door tightly, so she came in to talk to us. I got up and tossed her out, finally drifting off to sleep again, only to be awakened at 7:30 by loud fierce rain on the tin roof of the porch outside our door.
The rain woke Chelsea too, so we gave up on a night’s sleep, and spent the next few hours watching one of the fiercest rainstorms we’ve had here in years. Within a half-hour our pool was filled to overflowing and the streets were flooded, with the water rising higher than it did in any of our many hurricanes. The rain kept up all morning, through lunchtime and into early afternoon, with seriously impressive thunder and lightning. All we could think was how happy we were that we didn’t have to go grocery shopping on a bicycle in that mess.
The rain cleared in time for us to borrow the car to head to the library for movies for the weekend, stopping by a very crowded Publix on the way home to pick up a turkey before Alex had to get to work.
Thursday was another day of having to go with the flow. I don’t know if y’all have ever had to defrost a frozen thirteen-pound turkey in less than two hours – it wasn’t easy, and we didn’t make it in time. Alex needed to use the oven from three to four in the afternoon, so we planned to get our own meal out of the way before three. The pumpkin pie was no problem, but defrosting the turkey took a looong three hours, working with increasing panic that we wouldn’t be ready. We finally got it in the oven by noon, but it needed about four hours to cook.
Alex came over much earlier than expected, with the news that he didn’t need the oven. Yes! We were so relieved… He did need us to go to the store for him though. We’d forgotten potatoes for our mashed potatoes; we were perfectly happy to go. Wal-Mart was hilarious – though not horribly crowded, it sure was busy.
Everything was selling out, but store clerks were restocking as quickly as they could.
We fielded several last minute phone calls from Alex; we knew it was serious when he called instead of texting. We weren’t alone; each aisle was lined with folks on cell phones, either calling or receiving calls.
“I can see corn meal, but I don’t see corn meal muffin mix. Would it be called something different?”
“Honey, look up the recipe for me – does it call for heavy cream or whipping cream?”
“The only butter that’s left is unsalted. Do you care?”
“Do you want instant chocolate pudding or the kind that you have to cook?”
Alex was done and out the door by three, having left us a nice-sized portion of his pasta casserole; we were sitting down to enjoy our full meal, turkey and all, by four thirty. We spent a decadent evening with food and dessert, watching movies, knowing we had enough food to last another week!
It was a thoroughly wonderful Thanksgiving.