We have a day off. So, if you came in here looking for a blog post… well, sorry, but there’s nobody here right now… so if you want to leave a message after the beep…
It’s Thanksgiving Day here in Canada, but we don’t do a Thanksgiving meal or anything like that. Why in the name of doG would we spend $25 for just a turkey breast (which is all we eat, anyway) or MORE, for a whole turkey, and go to all that work, and all the cleanup afterwards, when there’s just the two of us? Maybe in a few years, when we have a child old enough to eat turkey and like it, we might go the whole big dinner route.
But not right now. Not this year.
This year? We’re RELAXING.
I know… crazy, right? Imagine. Doing NOTHING. On a LONG WEEKEND.
They’re going to drum us out of the Canadian Homeowner’s Society for that. Surely I should be puttering in the kitchen, and entertaining the family. BDH should be out mowing the lawn like all the other neighbourhood dads. We should be gorging on turkey and mashed potatoes and gravy.
And yet? Not so much.
Instead, we opted for the lounging in front of many, many hours of period dramas with plenty o’ beverages, and me with a bag of pistachios (well, I DID have, only I ate them all, and now I feel a bit barfy). Just me and BDH and Jane Austen, Mr. Darcy (the A&E Mr. Darcy, not any cheap knockoffs — only Colin Firth will do) and Elizabeth Bennet, Elinor Dashwood and Edward Ferrars… it’s crowded, of course, but very good society indeed.
And they don’t eat your snacks, which is nice.
I have my knitting and a box of Kleenex. BDH has his Nintendo Game Thingy which keeps him from getting TOO weepy over the romantical bits.
It works well for us.
And you know what? We’re really thankful.
We’ve paused a couple of times today to remark on how thankful we are for the quiet time, for the sandwiches for lunch and soup for dinner, for the time together.
We’re thankful, that’s for sure. Just not conventionally thankful.
We’re letting the phone ring and not answering the door.
It’s a fairly happy way to spend a Thanksgiving.