The preparation of a feast is underway. Just-cut string beans, snow peas, potatoes. Scents materializing. Cabinet doors flying open and threatening foreheads, then smacking closed with a shot.

A dozen socks competing for space on the tile floor. Bubbling oil and fast chopping. Aboriginal techno from an MP3 player. Water running.

The chaos is streamlining into a simultaneous finish. The wiped-off table is still waxy. I turn to see Sherwin glugging wine into a pot, wine left over from last night. It’s like a fuse is burning down.

Why do I feel like Thanksgiving is right around the corner?

The lines above are from a journal I kept in Berlin in May 2005. I returned to the journal last night in a desperate effort to find something to blog about today, and stumbled across those notes.

Travel gives us so many moments that are mini-Thanksgivings. Let’s give thanks for that.

Photo by Jeff Bauche via Flickr.