skipping thanksgiving

One of my favorite thanksgivings wasn’t even a thanksgiving at all.

I didn’t eat turkey and no one had the day off.
The weather was miserable. Cold and rainy and gloomy.
I never seemed to get warm or dry and slept for a week on a tiny twin bed. With Shaun.
In a flat with about 4 other people I didn’t know at all.
And one I did.

We skipped work for few days, emptied out our bank account, cashed in a few old savings bonds and traded in our dollars for pounds.
And flew across the pond.
And spent the week in London.
And skipped Thanksgiving entirely.
And loved every second of it. It was a time in my life where at parties the conversation was always steering to breastfeeding and birth control and babies.
Which was odd because we were all married with no kids.
We took  our dogs to dinner parties.
Played ultimate Frisbee on the Kimball lawn every Thursday.
Watched HGTV and decorated our new homes.
We scrapbooked and redecorated and went to late movies.
We packed up and went to the beach on an hours notice.
We stayed up late at friends houses playing mafia (in real life not on facebook) and Catan and drinking wine and beer and talking about how busy and tired we all were.
We had no idea.

And babies were right around the corner. We all knew it. Some of us were aching for it. Already trying.
But Shaun wanted to go to London first.
I had a friend who was living there for a season who graciously offered us her tiny bed while she slept on the couch and played tour guide. (Thanks Susan!)
So I got a passport and a scarf and off we went.
(And it was a good thing because the very next Thanksgiving I had horrible morning sickness).

We kissed in phone booths. Watched the changing of guards at Buckingham Palace. Let the Beef Eaters show us the way around the Tower of London. Climbed the lions in Trafalguar Square. Minded the Gap. Cruised down the Thames. Set my watch to Big Ben. Took in the view from the Eye. Watched a real football game (that is soccer to most of you). Frequented a few pubs (ok, maybe more than a few). Spent hours in museums. Walked across the Wobbly and the Tower Bridge. Rode on top of a double decker bus. Tried to get a guard to crack a smile. Tried to get used to looking the other way when crossing the street. Checked out Churchill’s War Rooms. Rode in one of those cute black cabs. Spent plenty of time Underground. Ice skated outside at Somerset house. Fed the ducks at St. James Park. Strolled down Picadilly Circus. Always kept an eye out for the queen and Hugh Grant. Watched Les Mis at The Palace Theatre. Shopped at Herrods and the markets on Portobello Road. Began my Advent season at a service at Westminster Abbey. And probably a dozen other things I already forgot. I drank hot tea and ale and really bad Dr. Pepper ( apparently they use a different recipe). We ate fish and chips, great chocolates, really good pizza, steaming noodles from Wagamama and chips and salsa at the Texas Embassy. But never turkey.

And we made memories instead of green bean casserole.