I am still in my pjs at 7:49 pm. Thank god for sundays.

In other news, yesterday I checked my email at work. My mom had CCed me on an email to Grammy about how yes, our family was coming to Thanksgiving, yes she would bring cookies, and yes green bean casserole was desired.

I almost cried. Seeing in no uncertain terms they'd all - even Doug - be there cozy, together and eating food I don't really like suddenly made it true. Two days ago I didn't miss thanksgiving. I didnt really need it and have vague plans to maintain the movie-going tradition alone, but otherwise content to be home in a month.

And all of a sudden I was aching for handprint turkeys, balsa wood planes and unidentifiable fowl carnage.

Wet eyed and wobbly I tried to explain how something so silly can suddenly seem so important. And Kate decided then and there I was having Thanksgiving. She's bringing pie and I need to call my mother for a stuffing recipe. She may have been driving me up a wall lately, but when the chips are down she is such a dear.

So apparently I am having a dinner party. With butternut squash risotto and a hodgepodge of brits. Liam has already promised to make sweet potatoes and Kate's called pumkin bread.

It may not be bird platters and saturday night at the Grady's, but it's the best I've got and they've already given me something to be thankful for.