All this week I’ve had an almost physical sensation about the approaching holiday. It’s like knowing it’s “back to school” time when the seasons change even when it has been MANY years since you were a student.
But around here I’m the only one feeling it because Italians don’t celebrate Thanksgiving. You don’t see coolers full of super-sized turkeys and end-caps of canned pumpkin at the supermarket. I went shopping yesterday and the store was relatively quiet– definitely not the biggest food shopping day of the year. (Curiously there are a lot of ads for Black Friday sales. I wonder what Italians think the origin of that is).
This morning I saw city workers going about their jobs just as though it was a normal day. It is here. There were a lot of auguris (best wishes) sent in one of my WhatsApp groups but they’re observing the festival of Saint Cecilia, the patron saint of musicians– certainly a worthwhile reason to celebrate, but not generally done with turkey.
Nevertheless I intend to make a mini feast. My supermarket sells these small, football-shaped roasts of boneless turkey thighs. My friends brought me a jar of cranberry sauce from the UK. I’ll make a slightly modified version of trimmings based on what’s available and what I like. I’m looking forward to it.
I am grateful for really cool clients who inspire and delight me with their growth.
I am grateful for loving, generous friends who know how to have a good time and who cook better than I do.
I am grateful for opportunities to sing with exceptional musicians, to stretch and learn, to appreciate my god-given gifts.
I am grateful to live in a beautiful, ancient country with lovely traditions, and I’m glad to be an oddball who’s invited to participate AND keeps her own customs.