Thanksgiving Snapshots, Part 1

— Rain. Torrential rain. For the entire day. No let-up. Not one iota. Rain, rain, rain. And wind battering against the house from the north. Siobhan’s friend was the lead-off dude in the Macy’s Day parade – he’s a stilt-walker – and he was going to be the FIRST ONE in the procession – and I thought about him, occasionally, over the morning … staggering down 5th Avenue on stilts in gale-force winds with the rain pouring down. What the hell??? Would he carry an umbrella? Apparently, he text messaged Siobhan later in the day saying something like: “Nothing like a 2-mile walk on stilts with Julie Andrews riding your ass.”

— Took the car to drive down to Jean and Pat’s house to get the dog … I was fearful that maybe they would be late coming over – hang out – not get home for a couple hours – and I just was nervous about Hudson. So … after the huge feast – I blithely charge off into the torrential rain to go get the dog. Once I was on the road, I realized how bad it truly was. My car was being buffeted about by the wind. The rain came swooping across the road in long billowing sheets, undulating. The entire town was deserted. There was a massive flood by Old Mountain Field. I had to drive on the other side of the road to avoid it. Visibility was NIL. I tried to keep my wits about me. I arrived at the house – with their cute little pumpkin lights up – a leftover from the Halloween bash – there was a knocked-over plant on the porch from the gale force winds – and I could literally hear the HOWL of the ocean at the end of the street. Insane. I ran to the porch through the rain – getting soaked in 1.5 seconds … and could see Hudson’s disconsolate black head through the window. He was lying on the coach, staring morosely out the window. Ha. When he saw me, he began to have a nervous breakdown. His excitement was palpable – almost painful. He leapt at me, whining, moaning, writhing. He had been in AGONY for the THREE HOURS he had been left alone. I could not find his leash. I was worried I would lose him in the monsoon. But I took that risk. Opened the door. Hudson went bounding off into the dark. I raced to the car, opening up the back seat for him, and shouted into the void: “HUDSON!’ He came racing back – and leapt into the car. And then began the drive home. Through the floods. Hudson lay in the back, silent, morose again. He had no idea what was going on in his life. He just succumbed to the chaos.

— Did I mention the rain? It was insane weather – and it lasted for only 24 hours. The next day dawned sunny and beautiful. The rain was not just a drizzle, or your ordinary downpour. It was a battering ram of water that lasted for hours. So bizarre. Happy Thanskgiving!

— Tom and Betsy joined us for dinner – with their two kids – Grace and Henry. Grace and Henry are my first cousins – and they are 6 and 2. I love having first cousins who are less than 3 feet tall. It reminds me of just how Irish we really are. Grace and Henry are awesome. I love them both. Neither of them pronounce their “r”s so it gives them odd unplaceable foreign accents. Henry talks in his own babble – with vaguely discernible words – Betsy translates for us – and sometimes he will just stand, stare at you seriously, and say, with total purpose and meaning: “Ah-ka-kee-ka-no-key-cah.” Uhm … come again? And Betsy will flatly say, “He’s telling you he loves Thomas the train engine.” Of course he is. Henry has boingy-boing curls like Shirley Temple, and his body language of twists and tumbles and leaps and writhings make it seem as though he is working on an audition for Cirque de Soleil. He and Grace play really well together. Grace has the jack-o-lantern smile of a 6 year old – and is just an awesome kid. At one point, the grown-ups were in the kitchen and Grace and Henry were playing in the living room. Suddenly we hear Grace begin to cry. It’s the serious crying – the crying of “Ow, that hurt.” A moment later, Henry appeared in the kitchen doorway, face worried, cheeks red, and announced, in this “I just want to help!” tone: “Gwace cwying!” Sadly for him, though, he was holding out his fist as he made the announcement – and you could see a huge HUNK of Grace’s hair in his hand. Like: dude, you are so busted!! I wonder why Gwace is cwying???

— That morning we had all gone over to Jean and Pat’s for a pre-Thanksgiving-dinner brunch. It was so nice!! Cozy and warm in the house … crazy rain outside. (Did I mention the rain?) Dad had sent over a rawhide bone for Hudson – who immediately took it over to his corner and did not emerge for over an hour due to the hard work of tearing that thing to shreds. Jean made spicy Bloody Marys. We had this amazing French Toast thing – made famous by my aunt Geddy – and potatoes – and bacon … coffee … Oh, and someone had brought cookies with little tiny Reeses’ peanut butter cups on top of them – maybe sugar-glued on? I have no idea. But someone made the comment that the plate of cookies – with the little brown cups on top – looked like a bunch of buried dead Pilgrims. Like they had been buried standing up and only their little Pilgrim hats stuck out of the earth. We were howling. “This would be the Thanksgiving dinner we would have if the Indians had won.” A celebration of the massacred pilgrims. Guffaws every time we looked at that plate. Amy brought quiche. There were blueberry muffins. The whole thing was INSANE. We played music – I got to hear all about Pat and Jean’s huge Halloween party which apparently was a raging success. Jean dressed as Princess Leia and at one point got so into dancing to Prince that the entire world dropped away. She was embarrassed to think about it later but in the moment it couldn’t be helped. I just want a picture of Princess Leia zoning out to Little Red Corvette.

— Siobhan and I then made our way back through the RAIN RAIN RAIN to Mum and Dad’s. Betsy and Tom and Grace and Henry had arrived … so Siobhan and I were in recovery-mode from the huge brunch – but we still had a couple of hours until dinner. Lots of family visiting. Henry came towards me in the kitchen when I walked in, holding out his arms, and hugged my legs. So cute!! And Grace looked very nice in her purple sweater, with her jack o’lantern smile.

— My parents bought 30 copies of The Sewanee Review They are everywhere.

— Oh! And Pat wrote an article about Siobhan’s show in New York for the local paper – and it came out on Thanksgiving day. There was a picture of her – a nice big write-up – and also a little lead-in on the front page. So cool!

— Thanksgiving dinner was massive. And yummy. It was already getting dark outside, the rain pounding on the windows, but inside was cozy, family, lots of kid behavior (Grace banging on the piano, etc.), and lots of grown-up talk. A perfect day. Jean and Pat came over after their dinner – and Hudson, who had recovered from the strange chaos of being air-lifted out of his home, experienced huge ecstasy at the sight of his owners. He had been enduring the “love” of Grace and Henry for about an hour: the two of them were rolling Fisher Price trucks over his paws, trying to poke him in the eyeballs, following him around relentlessly and screaming joyously at the experienced of being with the dog (his eyes were silent and long-suffering during this whole time), patting him hard on the head (but affectionately), and trying to pull his tail (and being stopped every time by this or that grown-up). When Jean and Pat showed up, Hudson ran at them in a feverish frenzy. “HELP! SAVE ME! WHAT IS GOING ON? WHERE IS THE RAWHIDE? WHY DID THAT GIRL OVER THERE COME AND ABDUCT ME IN THE NIGHT? WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN??”

— After Jean and Pat left, the Grace and Henry frenzy reached such a pitch that they were like the cartoon of the Tasmanian Devil. Their limbs were blurry, their legs flying this way and that, their faces a frenetic flash as they raced by. They were just having such a good time chasing each other up and down the hallway, and running around the circle of the house, screaming like absolute maniacs. Flashbacks to my own childhood.

— It was a good day. What Thanksgiving should be. We missed Bren and Cash, most definitely … but still, it was good to be together.

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