I don't think I like the phrase, "Black Friday," and I like the idea of it even less. When I was growing up, you never heard the Friday after Thanksgiving called "black" or anything else for that matter. It was just a nice, lazy day that gave us an extra reprieve from school and a menu of delectable leftovers.
As I teen, I might've enjoyed some limited shopping with my friends on that day, but it was never like it is now. The stores, many of them hometown merchants instead of today's retail chains, didn't open at some insane hour of the morning, and no one got trampled in their bid for the ubiquitous bargain.
I guarantee you that when our Friday rolls around tomorrow, it will not be in any way black. It works out that we will be having our family Thanksgiving at Googie's a day late this year. Both kids observed the holiday with their in-laws today, so I have used the time to get a jump on tomorrow's festivities. It is the first Thanksgiving since we have been married that Pa-pa and I have not spent with some manner of family--and that's OK. I still find much to be thankful for.
I am thankful for good friends. We shared lunch at a local restaurant with friends whose children celebrated Thanksgiving with them last weekend. It was laid-back and leisurely and entirely enjoyable. The fact that we ran into another good friend from high school that we had not seen in nearly twenty years made it even better. For the first time in my life, I had pancakes for lunch on Thanksgiving. I am not complaining.
Meanwhile, at home, my turkey for tomorrow was roasting in the oven. I am thankful that I won this turkey in a recent Halloween costume contest, for which the prize was a "dead body." I love the quirky humor in that. Who says there's no such thing as a free lunch?
I am especially thankful for my mother, who turned eighty-eight years old today. She has had a tough go of it since my Dad died in September 2011, but she is a trooper. She will be here tomorrow bearing homemade noodles and leftover birthday cake. I suspect we will probably have to light a candle or two for the grandkids to blow out. (We always try to look the other way and not think about the shower of germs raining down on a perfectly good cake.)
So--since I have rejected the notion of "Black Friday," I am declaring that our Friday will be yellow. That is the color of sunshine and daffodils and coconut cream pie. That is a happy color, and it makes me happy to have all the people I love most under my roof all at once.
Yellow Friday will mean a hectic morning. There are rolls to thaw, dressing to mix up, iced tea to brew, and a pumpkin dump cake to bake. When everyone arrives about noon, the house will overflow with that wonderful, crazy chaos that I have grown to love.
I hope that you have had a blessed Thanksgiving Day. And, if your Friday should happen to be yellow like the one I am anticipating, then may you continue to enjoy this season of gratitude like a gift to be unwrapped slowly and savored to the fullest.