There is this part of me that thinks I should be more social; have friends over for the feast to come, tomorrow. Shouldn't I have become more social and outgoing, in moving to Tennessippi?
What did our family of three do last year, our first Thanksgiving after being transplanted to the land of William Faulkner and Elvis Presley? Last year, it seemed OK that it was just me, my husband and son, and our cat, Teu.
This year, I kind of thought we would travel to Colorado where our son has cousins we'd like him to stay close to. Or, maybe we would have gone "back home" to our old haunts a time zone east of us. We'd be welcomed at a lot of places, but a few weeks ago, the idea of travel seemed like such a sttttrrreeetttcchhhh..
Just as well, because the traveling vehicle, the 1999 sedan with its leather seats and leg room and bottomless trunk for luggage, was involved in an accident. I slid into a person who had decided to stop on a yellow light, and either she stopped in the middle of the intersection or I pushed her into it. It was hard to tell, it happened so fast and the pavement was wet.
(I was not alone in having an accident at that time of day, enroute to picking our son up from school: within the same hour, four accidents happened within a mile of that intersection.)
But any travel plans we would have made would have required us renting a vehicle: with one of the front headlights out, on these short days, driving any long distance would have made us risky drivers.
So home it is, with our smashed car, our 17 pound turkey, three pies, and all the side dishes, and no one to share it with. Well, I guess I had better reframe that, right?
It is a time of abundance for our family and a time of gratitude that we are safe under one roof. With cold weather and sunshine expected tomorrow, we'll enjoy cosy time inside and a bracing walk after dinner (if we want to waddle out for a breath of air.)
If I focus on what is good, whole and complete, life is good.