gobble gobble

Thanksgiving is a huge deal here, much huger (is that a word?) than I remember it ever being in Ottawa, where I remember celebrating it mainly as a day off work, or school... We were invited by several kind families this year to join in their festivities, it being our first American Thanksgiving (we flew back to Ottawa this time last year in a fit of homesickness). Our neighbours next door have been so kind to us from the day we moved in and we accepted their invitation to join them at their mother's home in Plymouth for dinner.

T/G prep began on Wednesday. We went next door to help bake the bread for dinner. Mrs. Neighbour is a personal chef and her boys are both Boy Scouts and so between them they came up with a great baking project: home-made bread shaped like a turkey. We went over and well, basically watched, as it turns out Maymuna had little interest in mixing, or kneading, or stirring, but instead followed the boys around as she loves to do. Ben and Nathan showed their true Scouting colours because when Maymuna got fidgety they wipped out a Thanksgiving crafts project to do, and in no time they were glue and feathers everywhere and Maymuna was having a rockin' time. The result is this pinecone turkey which Maymuna absolutely loves. I suggested to Ozayr that we use it like the Travelocity Gnome... you know, turkey at the airport check-in, turkey at Tim Hortons, turkey in Istanbul...


I mentioned that I needed to go to the grocery store to pick up one or two things and my comment was pretty much greeted with a huge gasp, "the day before Thanksgiving!!" So I had terrible visions on the way to Byerley's - people climbing over each other to get the last can of cranberry sauce, lines that stretch forever and ever... I even packed snacks and books and toys in the diaper bag, should we get stuck in the parking lot, in the checkout line or over by the bread section. I was further daunted when I arrived and saw police cars in the parking lot - a very, very full parking lot. I strapped Hafsa in her sling (easier mobility than a stroller!) and we charged in. I was actually very impressed that all in all the crowds were handled very well. There were two people who greeted me at the door, one offering a cart and the other a map of the store. The crowds weren't too bad and the lines were quick-moving. There was even a Boy Scout troop there lending an extra hand bagging groceries, helping load cars etc. Not nearly as bad as I expected.

Thanksgiving day we got dressed up in some nice clothes... well, the girls did anyway, and I know by now that everyone is really only looking at them... and we headed out to "Ben and Nathan's grandma's" with flowers and rolls and a collage which Maymuna made for her. We met the family and friends that were gathered there and we chatted, and watched football (never even caught who was playing) and generally played interference between Hafsa and all the MILLION breakable things in that apartment.

Dinner time came, and Maymuna sat at the kiddie table!! It was SO cute. I didn't think she would go for it, but I think she liked the idea of doing what the big kids were doing. We had packed our own meal for her because of obvious allergy issues, but she was quite happy eating it. She kept asking for turkey though, and it took us a while to realize that she was talking about the BREAD we had made the day before. It was made without any allergens so we were happy to let her eat as much as she liked of it.

We ate well, turkey, stuffing, bread, cranberries, salad and a bean casserole. For dessert possibly the best apple pie and pumpkin pie I've ever had. Homemade of course. Pie is a phenomenon unto itself here too. The way it's said, it should be capitalized. "I make good Pie". "It's time for Pie." But it's not just pronounced "pie" either, there's something different about it. "PAAH!" Anyway, it was delish...

At the end of the evening Ozayr was given the wishbone. I had forgotten about this tradition, which I do remember vaguely from my childhood too. There is a bone in the turkey called the wishbone (okay, that's probably not it's *official* name) and you are supposed to let it dry and then two people each grab a side and pull, presumably while making a wish. The person who ends up with the bigger part of the bone after it's broken is said to get his/her wish granted. I am including a picture of a wishbone - a much drier, cleaner, less greasy wishbone - for those of you who've never witnessed this strange tradition. :)

So we stumbled out of Grandma Sixel's house at 5:30 p.m. or so and, let me tell you, it felt like midnight to me. Even the girls were exhausted and I know because Hafsa fell asleep and Maymuna whined the whole way home. The strangest sight of the day was the empty Target parking lot. As some Canadians may or may not know, Target originated here in Minneapolis and there must be a hundred of them in the Twin Cities. They are open almost every day of the year and there are always like 100 people inside each one at any given time. Plus at least 50 employees. It's like death and taxes, like Tim Hortons in Hamilton, like honey to thousands of Minnesotan bees... Anyway. All this to say, you never see an empty Target and so we slowed down to take a picture. :)

Well, this has been a huge post... and I will end it here. Happy Thanksgiving to all the Yankees reading.... :)