Image: Cardinals not at my new feeder!

Where are the birds?

It’s been three days! 

Our new smart bird feeder, overflowing with seeds is ready. We are waiting somewhat patiently to watch you eat–takeout or dine in. Swoop in and perch on the platform. Or grab some grub to go.

All birds staying over the winter are welcome. 

We see you–flashy red cardinals, tufted titmice hopping on the deck. We hear you—red-bellied woodpeckers drilling and sets of squawking jays.

Stop by our sturdy, tree-friendly feeder equipped with a camera hugging the most popular bird hangout in our front yard. The camera has alerted us to every school bus, garage truck, car, bicycle, and walker passing by the house. But no birds.

Aren’t birds always hungry? I suppose they are foraging tasty berries, worms, insects and have no time for free seed. Maybe I need to offer a better selection of seeds at the buffet.

While waiting, I’m musing why we have no bird visitors.  

3. The locals are not hungry after having a Thanksgiving feast at our neighbor’s house.

2. Some feathered friends are camera-shy uncomfortable with anyone watching them gobbling their meal, and coming back for seconds, thirds, etc.    

1. Certain birds are boycotting our feeder until I make my donation to the Cornell Lab of Ornithology. 

That's it! I pledge a donation to protect the birds. 

Cookbook inscribed by my flat mate.    

Found Family for Thanksgiving  

My first “Friendsgiving” was one memorable potluck feast with a group of American students sharing a house during their study abroad semester in England.

I didn’t expect to celebrate my favorite holiday away from home. For the last 21 years, I’d spent Thanksgiving with my parents and brother. We hosted relatives who drove for days, happy to be among family. My parents also invited guests whom we affectionately called “strays,” because they didn’t have family nearby. We welcomed these individuals, who were my mother’s students, my father’s colleagues, or our friends from church.

Our traditional meal centered on roasted turkey. Garden vegetables, sweet potatoes, dressing, canned cranberry sauce, rolls, and pumpkin pie with Cool Whip completed the feast. We had plenty of servings of food and gratitude to go around.     

***

I was grateful for the chance to study abroad, a privilege bestowed by my parents. As a communications major, I was thrilled to meet people who produced radio and television programs for the British Broadcasting Corporation. I divided my time between studying and exploring Oxford by bicycle. The town was bustling with students on bikes. The river rippled with scullers.   

***

I kept busy writing essays and writing letters back home. Overseas phone calls were expensive back then, and reserved for emergencies. As Thanksgiving neared, so did my desire for familiar settings, food, and unconditional love.

Mary Houser, my Oxford roommate and new friend, also suffered from a similar bout of homesickness. Neither of us had been away from our families at Thanksgiving. But Mary wasn’t one to wallow in self-pity. And that’s what I adored about her.

She hosted Thanksgiving at our flat. Mary always lifted my spirits. I used to tease her by singing “Oh, it’s a jolly holiday with Mary,” from the Mary Poppins’ movie.

Mary negotiated with everyone so we wouldn’t have too many green bean casseroles. Everyone agreed to bring a different dish and contribute toward the turkey. I made apple pies and set off the smoke detector in the process. Our house mates, hearing the alarm, quickly came to check on Mary and me. 

Bad news: Our flat smelled of smoke that clung in the air all afternoon. Good news: I didn't burn the pies! 

We had a spectacular celebration that Thanksgiving, grateful for our blossoming friendships, belonging, and bounty of food.