There was lots of room at our table.  We were very comfortable.   Too comfortable, I thought to myself on occasion.  But, despite our small numbers, it was a lovely Thanksgiving.  David's parents, our close friends Peter and Nora, their sweet baby James, and us -- a small and pleasant gathering indeed.

And abundance was with us.  Simplified somewhat, with the soup and salad courses abandoned, when my life partner said the one hope he had for this Thanksgiving was that it be relaxing for all. I knew he meant it would be good if I were less frantic, since everyone else usually relaxes just fine.  And I'm wound up tight with stress and overwork. 

Two fewer courses, and my mother-in-law to wash and dry the preparation dishes, and I was plenty relaxed.  And dinner was lovely.  Not excessive, as it has often been, but lovely nonetheless.  When my mother-in-law asked me earlier in the day what I wanted to do for place settings, I was pretty much stymied, but it was the incentive I needed to get creative.

We actually found our linen table cloth and napkins.  I was trying to remember when last we used them, but whever it was, my surge of domesticity lasted long enough for me to get the table cloth and napkins washed and ironed, and stored where I could actually find them again.  And, during my last-minute outing to the farmer's market, I dropped into one of my favourite stores, knowing that it specialized in holiday paraphernalia. 

Most of what they had was Hallowe'en-ish: ghosts, pumpkins, witches and the like.  But I saw nothing of turkeys.  And then I realized, we had a less clear image of Thanksgiving than our US neighbours.  Without the legend of the Pilgrims and the Indians and the shared first harvest with turkey, we had only a general harvest and the seasonal colours to guide us in our celebrations.  Our menu might be the same as that served in the US a month later, but the imagery was not.   In fact, there was no imagery that leant itself to my idea of a holiday table.

And then I spotted them.  Sparkling garlands of orange and red maple leafs. Probably meant to hang like a garland around a wreath, or perhaps swagged around a doorway, I decided it would be perfect wound around the place settings on the white linen tablecloth.  It looked magical.  I was pleased that I'd found a new way to make the celebration more elegant than in the past.  And all because someone asked me my intentions, and I realized I'd had none.

I worry that my mother-in-law will go tell her daughers what a great table I laid, and how very creative I am, and that they might want to try my ideas.   I worry for several reasons.  First, this is my first foray into creativity around things domestic, and they've been at it -- successfully, I'd add  -- for years.  Second, I like my sisters-in-law, and I'd hate to be compared unfavourably to them, and I'm sure they'd find it annoying to be compared unfavourably to me.  And third, I'd feel like a phony.  Just because I got one original idea -- once in my life -- doesn't mean I can live up to the reputation of being creative.  Geez!

Anyway, it was a good evening.  Sweet baby James was happy and entertaining as always, and I think my in-laws enjoyed having a baby around for whom they were not to have responsibility for an afternoon or evening while the baby's parents were busy doing other things with other children.  And I always enjoy this baby -- he is so happy, and I like that he had his first Thanksgiving with us.

At church this morning, our minister spoke about the need for ritual to keep families from falling into chaos.  An important ritual, he said, was family dinners, not just at holidays, but at least on a weekly basis.  Where schedules aren't discussed, manners aren't criticized, old grievances aren't aired, and the meal is prepared with attention to detail and with the tastes of all involved taken into account.  Rituals around tables.  I thought to myself, "Gee, I figured this one out years ago, but I'm hearing it again from a lot of different sources these days.  There must be something new in the message for me today." 

Perhaps, if I were a believer in such things, I'd believe the sparkling garland was a product of my paying more attention to ritual, and from this came my one creative moment.  If that's true of course, then it means I can get more creative moments by paying attention.  And then I'll truly have reasons to be thankful for such an important lesson with more creative moments to look forward to.  

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