3 Days to a new Thanksgiving -- making lists

Just started a to-do list: Plan Thanksgiving.

I've been doing lots of thinking, and a little asking around, but basically after I nailed down the "help serve a meal" activity, I pushed the whole thing aside, except to tell my husband in as nice a way as a Thanksgiving Lady Grinch can, that I was unwilling to start any tradition that involved me planning, cleaning and cooking for hours if not days while the men in my life, which is basically the rest of my entire family with exception of Mocha Cat, await a dinner bell and second servings. 

Wouldn't it be nicer, I suggested, if we could start a tradition that could continue once the kids go off to college which (GASP!) is less than 2 years from now for our oldest. Something we could do when it's just the two of us, if ever. Go on an outing, maybe. 

"They'll probably still come home for Thanksgiving then," he said. But he did give the knowing nod.

Then my husband launched a discussion about some brochure that's been floating around the office about "how to prepare thanksgiving in 2 hours," reminding me of the weeks after we first moved to Northern California from Manhattan Beach -- on the 8th day of the school year. It had been a quick move, done even faster to protect a spot in the local kindergarten class. Think witness protection but we got to keep our names. 

My husband was busy starting his new job. Five of us were living in a 2-bedroom corporate apartment 8 miles from my sons' new elementary school while we waited to take possession of our new house. We didn't recognize any faces in the school yard, much less knew anyone well enough to swap play dates. A 180 degree switch from the old neighborhood where my mother network blossomed. 

We were probably on time to school 5 times in the first 14 days. Laundry was three floors down and required massive numbers of quarters. Did I mention the kids were 3, 5 and 7? One day I just broke down -- this move would work, I told my husband. But right now everything was harder, he needed to try to help more. 

I was hoping he might start making lunches before work. 

The next morning, what I found was fresh brewed coffee. A whole pot. Never mind that I'd been trying to cut back on caffeine. It was as if to say, "You have so much to do... let me pump you up so you can get everything done a little faster."

This morning I realized that, if we were doing our usual Thanksgiving tradition, I would have woken up in Room 27, Sea Sprite Motel and Apartments, in Hermosa Beach, to the gentle sound of waves mixed with the soft shoe-sole-to-strand patter of early morning joggers. Life off-season on the beach is quiet and slow and easy, filled with long afternoons on the porch overlooking the ocean, and punctuated by hard food decisions like, "Do you want to order Pizza from Scottie's?" 

Meanwhile, my husband seems to have gone into action. Perhaps he's noticed the lack of harvest decorations, cookbooks and silver laid out to be polished. He stopped at Safeway on the way home from work the other night and called me from the meat aisle. "Do you think we should buy a Turkey?"

Thanksgiving newbies, the two of us.

When he got home, his bag was filled with string beans, raw sweet potatoes and little marshmallows. I took a closer look at his brochure. It's  2-hour Turkey. Not a 2-hour Thanksgiving. What about the sides?  

I can see where this is going if I don't get to work.

So much to do. So little time. Now my list has two things on it.

(1) Brew coffee

(2) Plan Thanksgiving