The day before the day before Thanksgiving

Here I sit in my peaceful, quiet office, listening to a local classical music station and taking care of a few very small items before I start my Thanksgiving vacation. It would be perfect, except for one thing. I lost my glasses at some point over the weekend, and I’m struggling to see anything. The reader strength that worked for me in January is apparently obsolete. Generally I just throw on my glasses for driving and manage without any vision correction for everything else. Really hoping the glasses turn up, because I’m definitely not going to the eye doctor until January, when my FSA $$ for the new year kick in. Thank you yet again, American medical and insurance system, for screwing up my everyday life.

Okay, this is not my table, but I’ve always wanted a dining table with a drawer in it.

So anyway, back to Thanksgiving. It’s just about my favorite holiday. Years ago we instituted the solid rule that the five of us are home, by ourselves, for the day and the big meal. Any holiday that leaves out extra people is perfect for my introverted self. I love the cooking, the delicious scents that work their way through the house, watching the parade, playing games and joking with our family. Heaven.

This year, though, has a slightly different feel. I’m in the position of waiting for three of my dear ones to return home from far-flung locations. The Husband’s job is still new enough that we have no idea when he might get home – could be mid-day on Thanksgiving day for all we know. The Boy won’t arrive from his college town until at least midnight tonight, having decided to stay in town late to attend a friend’s recital.

It’s Oldest I’m most concerned about. Her plane isn’t due to arrive until 10:15 PM Wednesday. When she made the reservation she was still in full-on study mode for her oral qualifying exam, and couldn’t even consider the thought of taking off a day early and missing out on lab time. Why, oh why didn’t I convince her to leave a day early? Storms are headed to the east coast tomorrow night. And a late flight on the busiest airline day of the year is almost guaranteed to be delayed. I’ll be on pins and needles all day and all night, worrying about whether she’ll make it or not.

The best holiday we could possibly have is the five of us all together. Maybe I should cook the turkey a day early so I can pull the wishbone and make one huge wish.

 

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