Thanksgiving was never a big holiday for us growing up, probably partially because my Dad is Irish.  I’m sure we didn’t even celebrate it when I was L’s age, since of course we weren’t living in the US.  I have no memories of Thanksgiving at all from when I was a small child – well maybe one.  I have a vague memory of getting to choose whether to be an Indian or a Pilgrim when I was a kid in school.  Hopefully kids are pursuing an interpretation of the holiday that’s a tad more politically correct than the one we had which I think featured war cries heavily in the Indian depiction.  But I could be making that up.  I wanted to be an Indian because of the feathers, if memory serves.  Anyway, Thanksgiving turned into a study-for-finals holiday in college, though one of my fondest memories is a trip to Albany one year.  That was the last big family reunion I attended.  I remember when I studied abroad the school made a big deal out of Thanksgiving for the American students, thinking we might be homesick.  I wasn’t, at least not due to the holiday.  Then came living on the West Coast and the travel nightmares of travelling East on this holiday.  That’s when I kind of started hating Thanksgiving.  Last year, B went to spend it in NY and I was hear alone with a 9-month-old, also not really a blast.

This year, however, should be very nice.  We are skipping turkey and having bacon, stuffing, cranberry sauce, and apple pie.  Probably potatoes.  We both love bacon and basically never have it, so we figure it’s a perfect main course for Thanksgiving.  We have four days off and no obligations.  I managed to get most of what I wanted to done at work, so I’m feeling relatively free from work stress.  What could be better?