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Thanksgiving with a twist

 Who knew how hard it would be to find Cornish hens this time of year? Apparently we are not alone in scaling back our poultry roast this year. Finally I found some, at Whole Foods. And they are securely nested in the freezer for the moment, to be brought out and thawed on Wednesday.

For the last 30+ years, with the exception of one escape to Ruidoso to gorge on a sumptuous buffet away from our local family, we have hosted Turkey Day. It's been a thing. We love to cook, our house is big enough to accommodate everyone, etc. Yes, there's been family drama, and some years we've questioned our decision to host, but that goes with the territory.  Every single year I've wrestled with enormous birds, seasoned and roasted them to perfection, then created many many sides to accompany the roasted beasts. This year, though, no big fat bird, We're scaling down and it's Cornish hen time.

We entertained the idea of having MIL over and eating outside, but the weather is forecast to be colder and possibly even wet, and the numbers in our state are out of control. So, no go there. Instead, we will deliver her meal and then dine on our own.

During this surreal moment in history we've all experienced myriad emotions, some good, some odd, some dark and scary. As I scan recent memory and tally the moods, the one that feels most front and center is loneliness. I love my husband, and we have managed to (mostly) keep a sense of humor in the face of the pandemic (and all it entails now and in the future.) But right now, with the holidays approaching, we're both feeling the weight of distance from our family. We miss the noise, the time in the kitchen preparing deliciousness, the togetherness. We miss the late night conversations, the ridiculously competitive games - backgammon, scrabble, bananagrams, chess. We miss the casual, spontaneous hugs and the shared moments.

We are not alone. Countless millions are facing this. It's just feeling really real, and I am not a fan.  Give me organized chaos any day of the week over yet another fucking day of calm predictable.

Any day.

Huge hugs,

Stevie

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