Thanksgiving

Growing up in Spain, we didn’t celebrate Thanksgiving — nobody had the day off, and the only person in the family who was really American was my mother, and getting absolved of cooking massive meals 5 weeks apart felt like a relief to her. So I didn’t grow up with it.

This is one of those holidays that people are pretty aggressive about: if you’re not cooking, they issue you an invitation to join their own turkey extravaganza, and are pretty upset if you refuse. By now my friends in Davis know not to bother inviting two reluctant vegetarians (Oh! but we can do tofurkey especially for you!). So, I’m a card-carrying Thanksgiving grinch. I have nothing against the holiday itself, though native Americans I’ve known certainly do. It’s at least mostly non-commercial. But issuing in the frenzy of the weekend of spending: that really does seem worth getting away from, and we are participating in the #AintBuyingIt boycott.

I just went for a walk and took myself past the Davis Food Co-op, a place I visit often in the course of a week. It was a madhouse. I just kept right on walking and carried on around the neighborhood.

Our tradition on Thanksgiving day is to walk up Mix Canyon and then order take-out from our local favorite Indian restaurant. Happy Thanksgiving, if you celebrate…