I ordered our turkey

Thanksgiving isn't a big thing here in Switzerland. But it is the one holiday when homesickness sweeps over me.

Some years it just passed. One year I had fondue, a combining of past and present. Another year a colleague knowing how I felt made her idea of pumpkin pie.

For two years I took advantage of The Bookworm, a used bookstore and tearoom and put on a feed that was as good as my grandmother's and that's saying a lot. The tables were crowded in among the bookshelves, and each time I found myself seated next to a stuffed Peter Rabbit. People, whether they were strangers or not, talked until no one was a stranger.

A memorable year was over a decade ago when friends came from the US, my daughter came from Germany with friends, another friend from Holland and my partner at the time invited all our Swiss neighbours for a huge feast in his entertainment house. That year included all the typical decorations. At the request of my girlfriend's husband I tried in French to explain to the Swiss the traditions behind the tradition. I was able to link all nationalities somehow to the feast: Calvinists for the Swiss, Puritans living in Holland until I came to my daughter's then partner, a Finn. At a loss, I decided he was the one who drove the turkey down from Mannheim.

In France my girl friend has done chicken.

Last year we were going to do a meal, the turkey was bought but technical difficulties led to a replacement meal in a Chinese restaurant. The turkey later made a great Christmas dinner.

However, this year we have 18 people invited, my housemate has brought the decorations back from California, and discussions of menu are in full swing.

I just ordered the turkey(s) from the butcher in Collonge. He has a lovely little shop with the meat laid artistically in trays in shining glass cases. We will eat on the 28th not the 27th, but I don't care. I am giving thanks for a Thanksgiving.