Talking Turkey

Unlike Loy Krathong, Thanksgiving is a holiday Jip can get behind. It’s the one day of the year when she agrees to vary her routine—or at least to trade one routine for another. Eating yams baked with rosemary has become our tradition.

Yesterday we took that dish across town to the home of a colleague, where a few folks from work gathered for the traditional feed. Jip didn’t have any turkey or pie, but she did enjoy the conversation around the table, just as she liked going last year to a gathering of people who all graduated from my college--she felt the banter was more interesting than what she usually hears at home. She seemed at ease right away, even thought she had met only one of the other people before. Partly that comfort is a sign of our hosts being easy to know, but mostly it reflects how much more social Jip has become during the past year or so than she was when we first came back to Thailand.

With this mixed-age, international group she took the opportunity to share her standard advice about how to eat a balanced diet: “Mix colors.” Later in the meal it seemed appropriate for me to tell a turkey day tale that’s been making the rounds on e-mail.

Once again this year, there’s lots for us to be thankful for.