Thankfully, by the time you read this....

... it will be Canadian Thanksgiving.

This year, most of us here in Canada are thankful that we are not American.

Yet.

This year, we are also thankful we are not Icelandic, although we have started going there on holidays as a nation, because of the special offer flights.

Me, I'm currently thankful I like to cook.

Up until last Thursday, I was going to my out-laws for Thanksgiving, which is what I normally do (unless I am lugging a canoe around a lake, which is what I did last year). Then, Himself's work took a swerve towards winter hours. So for the last three nights and the next seven, Himself is working a twelve hour shift from 7pm - 7am.

So not only do I have to cook Thanksgiving dinner, I have to have it on the table by four pm.

Bah.

I figured I would just not do it.

I told Himself we'd just have pork chops or something, because I don't like turkey and I didn't feel particularly thankful this year anyways.

Oh, he said.

Oh...

Himself, being a youngest child, has said family member's innate ability to pull THE SAH-DED-EST FACE IN DEH WOR-ALD EHV-HER when he needs to.

Oh, he said, with his sad face on.

I held my ground for a bit.

Then I heard him telling Kitty on the phone that he would do a meal for everyone on Sunday .... if he wasn't too tired.

Or sad, I assume.

Or dead from the H2S levels.

I don't actually know if Kitty was on the phone or this was just a ploy of course.

Anyways, it worked.

Christ almighty, I can't be one of those women who sends her bloke off to work a twelve hour shift in a place where the H2S levels are higher than the highest H2S levels ever recorded in the world ever, forcing him to be extremely BRAVE and RESOURCEFUL and CAREFUL and SUCCESSFULL at STAYING ALIVE and then forces him to take a shower as soon as he gets home from the FREEZING COLD and DANGEROUS oil rig bilge barge pumping whatever the fuck it is he's gotten Himself into doing now thingummy.

Just so he can cook a nice supper for her.

Without even asking about the H2S levels that day.

Well, I could be that kind of woman, but I choose not to be.

Actually, I'd quite like to freak out about the H2S levels, but I'm not allowed. Because it's not an issue. Because Himself is TOO CAREFUL TO DIE.

Phew.

Why am I living with a danger junkie?

Oh that's right, everyone else bored me to death eventually.

Maybe Himself will scare me to death eventually.

Or H2S me to death. According to Wiki, a buildup of hydrogen sulfide in the atmosphere could have caused the Permian-Triassic extinction event 252 million years ago.

There you go.

Okay, how did we get here from Thanksgiving?

Get back to the point, please.

Yes, anyways, I'm thankful I can cook. Because that means I don't have to cook a turkey.

I hate turkey.

I worked on a turkey farm once, long long time ago.

Some of my readers will know why.

It wasn't for the glamorous surroundings or the wages I can tell you.

My job was to get the plucked turkeys, cut out all the oozing scabs from the fighting that goes on in a turkey barn, and sew the skin together like new with white thread.

So, I don't like turkey.

So we're having rib of beef instead.

With a Dijon mustard and cumin crust.

And Yorkshire pudding.

With mashed and sweet potatoes, butternut squash (roasted, with brown sugar and butter) and turnip.

Because you can't have too many Fall colours on a plate in our house.

It will be preceded by a nourishing barley and lentil soup.

And followed by pumpkin pie, of course.

With lashings of cream.

A careful blend of Old and New World autumnal cooking.

It's all prepped so I don't have to do anything until 2pm and can spend the morning in the garden.

I texted the dinner menu to Himself at work.

To cheer him up.

And distract him from his H2S monitor.

Which beeps constantly, such is the danger that man puts Himself in in order to put prime rib of beef on the small pine dining table in our apartment.

(I'm not taking the piss out of Himself, by the way, I am dealing with the slight, scratching the back of my brain dread I am feeling about this job by using my lifelong friend and ally, sarcasm.)

He texted me back with the standard text I get when he's getting what he wanted all along.

UR the best babe.

Yes, I know I am.

You're completely spoiled is what it is, I texted him back.

So now we're actually having Thanksgiving, I guess I should be thinking about what I'm thankful for.

I'm so going to make everyone at the table tell each other what they're thankful for this year.

Just to make a point.

About gratitude.