Tomorrow will be our first major holiday away from family. We debated how to mark the day. Drive to San Francisco and eat at our favorite pizza place? Go to a local restaurant and eat their sad Thanksgiving spread? Or make a bunch of food and eat leftovers for the rest of the week?
We opted for number three. We’re doing the whole deal. Hors d’oeuvres, baked ham, three sides and dessert, all washed down with James’ magical sangria. Anything worth doing is worth overdoing. I think Gandhi said that.
I had to pick up a couple of last-minute things for our meal at the grocery store this morning, something I wouldn’t have attempted in Houston. A regular Saturday at HEB is busy. The few days before Thanksgiving are insanity. People ram you with their carts, jostle for the last can of cranberry jelly and generally make you weep for the sad state of humanity (then again, what doesn’t these days). Not the same deal here. We may have to drive two hours to see live music or go to the airport, but, dammit, there’s no line at the grocery store the day before Thanksgiving.
We’re coming home for a quick visit in December, so we put up our Christmas decorations early. Pro tip: if your house is adobe, the addition of colored Christmas lights *may* make it look like a Mexican restaurant. Which I’m totally fine with.
The small format of our tree this year meant we could only put out a few ornaments. You’ll notice the Christmas pickle made the cut. I didn’t hear about this murky tradition until maybe a decade ago. I don’t think I have to tell you why I’m a fan. Tradition or not, it’s a fucking pickle! On your Christmas tree!
We also brought out the dogs’ stockings (this is what people who have no children do), the dancing Santa that sings and farts and a few other cherished items. Hey, you celebrate your way, I’ll celebrate mine.
And however you celebrate tomorrow, have a good one.