Gobble, gobble...Happy Thanksgiving

I've been off busily preparing for my favourite holiday of the year. One of the few holidays that is truly American. The one day where we get together with friends and family, eat and be thankful for all that we have. No presents, just us. In my family, we are thankful for the people that are with us, and for those that could not be with us on the day. I have no doubt we were remembered as they sat at around the table, and now I was able to offer the same thanks in return. 

We celebrated our first Australian Thanksgiving this weekend. It was amazing. Two turkeys totaling 10 kilos (20 pounds), three kilos of cranberries (about six pounds), and a mashed potato bar with bacon, cheese, sour cream, spring onions/scallions and, of course, the real star, gravy. Mushroom with thyme to be exact. There was even pumpkin pie. 

It couldn't have been a better night with good company, great food, and lots of laughs. I couldn't have done it without MacBoyfriend though. He went to Manly Vale for the three kilos of cranberries and Marrickville for the turkeys. He flipped the turkeys and bought a poinsettia table cloth for the backyard table. So simply, for him, I give thanks

I'll leave you with a bit about the food....sweet dreams.

The Turkey

We brined both turkeys. One was a Martha Stewart recipe with bay and onion brine, and a Penzy's Bicentennial rub (tumeric, pepper, salt, sugar and something else I can't remember right now). The other was a Nigella brine with oranges and star anise, with a maple and butter glaze. They were delicious. 

We had cranberries, stuffing, wild rice, and a cranberry-apple chutney.

But the real star was the mashed potato bar.

This I believe...

Today is incredibly ordinary in Sydney. The sky has remained gray and cloudy, and it is surprisingly cold for a mid-spring day. I forgot my running shoes at home, and didn't realise I needed a light jacket until I was waiting for the train. This all after an epic alarm of the wattle bird at 5 a.m. I was happy it was Hump Day, especially after a weekend full of parties and pork in Melbourne.

I've been at the helm of my career path for a few months now, and have been questioning if I am heading in the right direction. So after this completly ordinary day, I came home and found something extraordinary. Funny how those two words, ordinary and extraordinary, mean polar opposites. I found a list of things I believe in circa October 2005. I remember starting the list based on the NPR program 'This I Believe,'which was often on in the car while tooling around the ghettos of Milwaukee. It was fitting. This was right after the time of Hurricane Katrina, and P-to-the-Earl and I were heading down for Mardi Gras that February. The theme was the Blue Roof Blues. One of the essay's was a social worker from New Orleans, who was writing about the aftermath of the storm.

For those of you that don't know the program, you should have a look. There are essays by American author Amy Tan, boxing legend Muhammad Ali, and 12-year-old Macklin who really likes the Beatles.

My list was started out of this program, and I had forgotten about it until now. Now, I won't keep you guessing, I shall share a few gems with you:


I believe I want to run away to Africa. 

I believe in the imperfections in people. 

I believe someone’s got it worse than me right now, and I should suck it up.

I believe I’m drunk.

I believe I shouldn't have said that.

As it's Veteran's Day this past Sunday in the States, the website for the organisation is doing a feature on stories from the Military Family. I can't do them justice. So many talk about compassion, peace, hope and connection in the talons of war. To be able to find something beautiful among so much destruction.  The ability to every day come across strangers searching for some meaning in their experience, and to help in some small part. To impart hope and reflect bravery. One Vietnam vet, ironically from Wisconsin, tells the story of a young girl giving him a magazine on the flight home. Thirty-six years later, he remembers, and gives her thanks, for this gesture of kindness. That. That is what I have to believe in today. It is in this belief in belief that today, I give thanks for. 

I'm official

Today we are off to Melbourne for a pig roast. That's right, a whole pig roast hosted by our lovely Africa friends. No doubt something good will come out of this weekend. 

Until then, this came in the mail yesterday. I can't for the life of me figure out how to turn the picture, so apologies to those of you that may have neck problems.

It means not much actually changes, expect that if I go back to study I'll get resident rates, and in two years I can apply to be a true-blue Aussie. And then, much to my mother's dismay, I can go to places like Iran and Cuba.