Last year, we spent Thanksgiving waiting on a turkey that just wouldn’t cook in my dad’s tiny oven. This year, we broke with tradition and ate lasagna. Partly because of that oven, partly because my dad is moving on Saturday and an actual turkey feast was too much to handle, but mostly because my sister E. just had her wisdom teeth removed and couldn’t really chew anything. Lasagna seemed the way to go.
Glad to have been of service, Mr. Turkey.
E. and I made dinner while my dad watched football over the Internet. We spent most of that time dreaming up plans for our Christmas break in California (said plans mostly revolve around the new Smitten Kitchen cookbook, which seems about right) and driving dad crazy with our giggling. Good times.
This morning, E. needed the get the 6:56 train back to Groningen. You can tell I love my family not so much by the five-hour train ride I endured to get here, but by the fact I voluntarily woke up at 6:15 to see E. off and have a cup of coffee and a croissant with my dad before he went to work. Tonight, we’re going to Ikea to pick up some stuff for his new house, and tomorrow, I’m helping him move. After that, I’ll be glad to be back in Germany, recovering from all this familial devotion. That, too seems about right.