We celebrated Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday, I’m not sure why since we are Brits living in The Bahamas.
Top Banana turned out a Turkey and all the trimmings but we drew the line at marshmallows on sweet potatoes. Guys, seriously, that is odd.
In a slight last minute panic we piled Periwinkles, Ponciana ferns, and Love Vine’s down the table, and hurricane lamps with candles, that kept toppling over until Amory and Wesley filled the base with pink sand from the beach.
At the end of dinner I produced a box of After Eights. One nutter suggested we play the After Eight game. You place the thin chocolate mint on your forehead and wiggle your face around until it slips down into your mouth. At no point must you use your hands. A highly competitive friend, so eager to not let the mint slide out of his control, took so long that the mint melted into his eye socket.
(I think this may be one of those You-Had-To-Be-There stories)
But I went to bed that night feeling overwhelmingly thankful for my friends and most importantly my family, and I pause now to think of Clare Milford Haven, and all of the other heartbreaking stories that were written about in response to my last post.
Thank you for taking the time to share them.