As I said in my post yesterday I was having a huge case of the homesick blues. When we went to bed Mr. H fell asleep pronto like normal and I was laying in bed torturing myself with images of my family all gathering at my grandparents and on and on when a thought popped into my head.
I am a Pilgrim.
Alright so I am going with the history I remember learning as a kid in elementary school and I know is the very basic and probably not horribly accurate Thanksgiving story but it is the one ingrained in my head and what comforted me last night.
So like the Pilgrims I left my home for the idea and promise of a new life which for me would be better. I knew it would be a hard, long, and scary journey but it was something I believed in even when those around me thought I was being idealistic or stupid.
I have now settled myself into this new place and while I am just one person my house is a small colony of America where I love to share my traditions and food with the friends we have here. I also have Mr. H, a native Swede, to teach me about my new home and its traditions and together we can forge a new wonderful place even if that is just in our home.