I’m thankful London has been so thoroughly saturated with Americans over the years that one of the biggest grocery store chains and on-line grocery delivery services are stock full of turkeys and all the Thanksgiving trimmings a person could want. The emails advertising the same came decked out in American flags. No creative item-buying necessary. Unless a person might want French’s French Fried Onions or those tubes of dough that turn into biscuits (not the cookie-kind) or “crescent” rolls in your toaster oven. Mmmm. Miss those.
I’m thankful Bryan’s dad, Jonah’s Poppy, has been visiting us since Saturday. He is so great with Jonah and it is such a joy to watch the precious quality time the two are having. I think my F-I-L doesn’t even mind the freezing weather despite that he has come to us from sunny warm Florida.
Last Saturday we went to Winter Wonderland at Hyde Park. A never ending stretch of a German Christmas market, amusement rides, ice skating and beer halls.
You may have had the pleasure to have viewed the Jets game Sunday afternoon. Recap: The Jets secured the win against Cleveland in the first quarter. Then royally effed everything up. Lost because they suck and Bryan threw his jersey across the room. In the last thirty seconds, wait, hold on, it can’t be, they miraculously won. Or something like that. I wish Hard Knocks was on during the regular season so I could see Rex Ryan having similar blood pressure surges to my husband. If something happens to Bryan, can I sue? This curse of fandom was passed down by generations. The latest three:
I am thankful my mother arrives on a redeye Thanksgiving morning. Because she is a mom to miss, an irreplaceable NeNe to Jonah and I know she will cook and clean for me.
I am thankful for my little, beautiful family that spends each morning of every day in the same bed- bouncing, eating bananas, having laugh riots and kissing doggy stuffed animals. I am thankful for the rest of my family who will bookend both coasts in the U.S. with wonderful celebratory feasts of their own.
I am thankful for living abroad because I have never more contemplated, considered and appreciated Thanksgiving or 4th of July (or hell, even Halloween) than I have in the past few years. And they fortify my pride in my nationality against all odds.
Here is what I am not thankful for:
The British government has decided that the 29 April wedding of Prince and Kate Middleton will be a bank holiday.
That sentence on its own would make me very, very, very happy. I am not saying I would brave the streets around Westminster Abbey on the day, but I would definitely enjoy some alfresco dining and watch on the big screens in one of the parks.
But the Prime Minister has had the nerve to make this bank holiday culminate in two successive 4-day bank holiday weekends in the UK. Good Friday, Easter Monday, wedding of the century and first May Bank Holiday. All in a row. Shall we do the maths together? One could, theoretically, take an 11-day vacation/holiday and only take 3 days off of work. THREE DAYS. FOR ELEVEN DAYS AWAY. It is unprecedented.
That many days off means almost the entirety of the population will be leaving the country. Including me.
Which means I will miss the wedding.
But wait, look I am rallying. It’s a good life and really, it’s Wills and Waity Katie’s loss.