thanksgiving prep

somehow pitted black olives have become my sentimental tie to home.

as i am preparing for tomorrow's feast i am discovering a whole new side of myself. and, in classic marta style, i am justifying my new overzealous self to the nth degree. because when you know your far away familiar favorite faces will not be gathering around your table, suddenly the familiar favorite foods that will be spread out on the table take on a much higher trait of significance. really, truly. i promise i am not typically this spastic. yet i've found myself pushing benji in a shopping cart almost every day this week. buying just the right items. including today. yes, i am one of those people running back to the store for one last thing.

last night as i set the ingredients out in their stations on my counter (i told you, i am full of zealousy), i realized that i'd forgotten the cranberry sauce. you know, the kind that comes in a can with ridges on the sides. dan doesn't really like it, but me, i love it at this time of year. any other day of the week, i would've dismissed it. tossing my hands in the air and thinking, not worth the trip, no way am i going back for cranberry sauce. we have lots of food to make up for it.. but then i laid in bed imagining my little leftover turkey roll sandwiches barren without their splash of saucy red.

so. i went back there with gusto; i was determined not to fill my cart with anything else. nothing more. only cranberry sauce. (and maybe a magazine. the one with taylor swift on the cover. just for perusing while the turkey is cooking.) yep, just the essentials. number one, because i have been to the store way too much this week. and number two, this week has totally ruined my new found goal to live more green and non-consumerish. maybe i should hold out on that goal til 2010? so there i am hunting for cranberry sauce. benji was a sport (and didn't even roll his eyes at me) and received a dum dum for being so awesum. he was over the moon about that dum dum.

so there i am pushing my way through the grocery store, with the rest of the world, and suddenly i see the large display of black olives at the end of the aisle. olives. another item we never buy. mainly because dan has never taken a liking to their squeeky texture. a texture that is a step-brother to mushrooms. which is another story. so there i am in my jeans and hoodie and clogs and benji with his root beer dum dum and a huge emotional tidal wave comes crashing down. suddenly i am nine years old at my grandma june's long thanksgiving table with cousin whitney and brooke by my sides and we are eating rolls and olives and pretzel jello salad. and going back for more. suddenly i love olives. suddenly i shamefully wonder if benji has ever even tasted an olive. i have been unknowingly depriving him of the five finger olive trick.

one can of olives + one can of cranberry sauce.
equals one satisfied and sentimental customer.

more details of my idaho thanksgiving feat to come.