On the one hand, it's a total bummer to miss out on Gram's homemade pecan pies and the sudden switch to Christmastime, ushered in by the appropriately capitalistic Black Friday pandemonium. On the other hand, it's the perfect opportunity to share in others' traditions and predictable (mis)understandings of the American holiday.
When I'm really lucky, I even get to plump for more than one Thanksgiving feast. And that's exactly what happened this year!
Round One: Hannah and Yona
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| Jews do Thanksgiving: meet Doug, the turkey challah |
On Thanksgiving eve itself, Jenna and I loaded our bags with Prosecco (good move, selves) and headed to Hendon, where she promptly took off her trousers and changed into these gorgeous things:
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| The Americans, before we belted O Shenandoah |
Legwear at the ready, she then explained the entirety of American colonization and revolution to a room of wide-eyed Brits. (How do they not learn this in school?!) Then, we stuck in!
The following morning, stuffed to the gills with Hannah's culinary delights (and three desserts), I packed my duffel, hopped on a train from Kings Cross (platform 2, not 9 3/4), and soon found myself somewhere just as magical as Hogsmeade --
Round Two: Willow Cottage
Worried I'd be a lonely American in the big city, my favorite man put me in touch with some of his family on this side of the pond. Specifically, his too-fabulous-for-words Aunt Marla married a Brit five years ago and moved to Linconshire, a small hamlet about 160 miles north of London, where they've created quite the little life together. I was lucky enough to score an invitation to their British-American-Twist Thanksgiving festivities!
Her husband CJ picked me up from the train station and, seeing as it was mid-afternoon, promptly brewed us cups of orange pekoe upon our arrival at their love nest, Willow Cottage. We talked about his adventures sailing the world after serving in the Royal Air Force, and he told me the beautiful story of when he met and fell in love with Marla. Soon, the lady of the house returned from work-- and I didn't stop laughing from that moment until I departed the next day!
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| CJ's cheeky British grub stole my heart! |
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| The view from my room! |
Marla and I stayed up far past the witching hour that night, girltalking and eating chocolate -- as her nephew promised, our connection was instant. Don't you love when that happens?
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| With Aunt Marla in front of Lincoln's incredible medieval Cathedral |
The next morning, I awakened early to see CJ off to work (and sample his homemade whiskey marmalade!) before hitting the shops on Steep Hill with Marla. We explored the quaint town of Lincoln, stopping for culture, nibbles, and the occasional Christmas bauble along the way.
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| Steep Hill, a perilously cobbled street lined with pubs, cafes, and boutiques |
I returned to London one very happy, very stuffed little turkey.
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| The best parting gift I could hope for -- CJ's homemade jams! |
Nothing beats holidays with family, but this year's Thanksgiving celebrations were truly magical -- and a poignant reminder of how lucky I am to be surrounded by individuals who give me so much to be thankful for.
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