A Family Thanksgiving

Having originally hoped to be in America for Thanksgiving, before my Father’s health and certain financial issues intervened and we decided to delay our application, I was determined to have a family Thanksgiving with JT and the children.

Also it seemed quite authentic to mark the occasion as a European, by turning up to a Native American’s house and refusing to leave until he fed me.

Accordingly I flew in a few days before and bizarrely had my easiest ever trip through US immigration, on my ESTA.  I think this was partly because I was very clear about being here for a short trip as we were waiting for my visa interview notification and partly that the chap who screened me also met his wife on Facebook and got married in June 2014.

Big shout out to Detroit immigration – I love you!

So we had a rather wonderful week and I got to cook a ginormous turkey, and actual pumpkin pie. (see below) I made apple pie too and also maple roasted sweet potatoes.


There was the awkward moment when I confused everyone by laying the table with too much cutlery, and it turned out that my gravy was “un-American” (being made thinly with the juices from the meat ,simmered with wine, rather than being thick and from a jar).  But these cultural differences aside,  I feel a good time was had by all.

To top everything off, it snowed, so I got very excited and insisted on going outside in my ridiculous snow boots, bought specially for the trip.


As you can see I was very happy and had much to be thankful for.

Further good things happened on the return journey, when I was bumped from my flight home and moved to a later flight in something that was incredibly like a scene from a movie.

In general, whenever I’m given the opportunity to volunteer for a delay, if my plans are flexible, I alway say yes, but then check the box for the highest compensation, which since it is cheeky, tends to mean I don’t get chosen.  I arrived at Sawyer International, and they mentioned that they “might be over booked and would I still consider flying the next day?”,  which given that it was an extra night with JT and a shorter flight home, I was very agreeable to. They in turn sent me through security and said they would let me know before boarding. I had quite a chat with the lovely woman checking me in and felt we had almost bonded, after I regaled her with the story of our romance.

Alas, the flight was called and I slowly dragged myself to the gate, last in line, and confirmed that I hadn’t been bumped for over-sales. I duly waved at JT and took my seat at the back of the plane, praying for someone important to turn up who need my seat.

The Captain came to use the toilet, the extendable walkway was withdrawn and I switched off my phone and abandoned all hope.

The Captain came to use the toilet, the extendable walkway was withdrawn and I switched off my phone and abandoned all hope.

Meanwhile JT  was watching the plane from the carpark and he was startled to see, some moments after the walkway was withdrawn, our  lovely check-in lady madly pushing stairs on wheels up to the plane.

Switch to inside the plane, where I was rousted from my failed-bumping -fugue by the doors reopening and the appearance of the check-in lady, who announced over the tannoy:

“Does passenger Trumbley still wish to deplane?”

Of course I then deafened the surrounding seats shrieking “yes”, leaping up and exiting the plane like Linford Christie, (important British sprinter if you are not from England) leaving everyone confused as to why I was on a flight I clearly didn’t want to be on.

It turned out that despite the correct number of people turning up for the eats, the plane was over weight. The pilot apparently spent some time checking with various authorities whether he could take off anyway, when lovely check-in person, who at this point I feel moved to call sister, even though we did not call each other anything else first (sorry Oscar Wilde) said to him “I can save you several hundred pounds (that will remain unblogged) as there is a passenger who wishes to deplane.”

The pilot’s response?  “Bump her!”

So, happy ending, I got an extra night with my husband, a faster flight home and $500 off my next Delta flight, which I hope to use for my immigration flight.  I believe this is generally called a win!

Happy Thanksgiving!


A Family Thanksgiving is a 2010 version of Family Man, where is lawyer is shown the life she could have had, I’ve not seen it, but somehow it feels more sexist than Family Man, which only got away with its premise because it was a bloke who was possibly unfulfilled by not having children, and he got the happy ending and the ferrari but possibly no kids. But I maybe missed the point.


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