Before Thanksgiving, before the drive to Boston, the apple pie, the turkey -- Alistair and I got a private karaoke room in Flatiron. We ordered two rounds of gin and tonics, and we sang our favorites for an hour. We migrated to the bar after the happy hour special ended and Alistair sang a few more songs. I’d had a busy few days and karaoke was just what I needed. We took a car back and laughed the whole ride: "Now that's how you begin Thanksgiving Holiday week" we said.
Last year I spent Thanksgiving with Alistair's family in Hamilton, Mass. It's an idyllic place for the holiday. His aunt and uncle own a historic home where wild turkeys cross the street, chickens sleep in a coop, and in the great room a small fireplace always flickers.
This year we were returning their house for Thanksgiving. On Wednesday morning Alistair's cousin came to pick us up for the four-hour ride to Boston. The weather was a big topic on the ride up: this year temps would drop into the teens. We woke up Thanksgiving morning in our Airbnb and it was only 13 degrees. Alistair loaned me ski socks and I put on extra layers. The traditional walk on the beach would be cancelled.
We had fun regardless, his family is so kind and easy to get along with. On Friday the temp warmed to 30 degrees. We went to the Ipswich Wildlife Sanctuary for a walk and to feed the birds. Little chickadee's and tufted titmouse's ate the seeds right out of our hands. The lake on the grounds was frozen over, and most of the icy mud crunched under our feet. (My toes felt like they were frozen solid.)
On Saturday Alistair and I rented a car and drove ourselves home. We got to Brooklyn Saturday afternoon and spent the day being lazy. On Sunday we went to brunch at Bessou and afterward I went home to get ready for the work week. I'll be traveling again on Saturday.