Thanks for Everything

Nope. There is no way to have an American Thanksgiving in Alice Springs. People try...and try...and there are turkeys in shops and cans of pumpkin stuffed in suitcases from trips home. The Saturday prior, we were invited to a nice American gathering at a friend's house - 30 people; supremely brave woman. Still, no filling vs. stuffing wars, no keilbassi; there's no place like home.
Soooooo... why even try?!
We decided to throw tradition out the window and invent our own Aussie Thanksgiving. It was great!
My original plan was to get our barbecue grill Wednesday and have a cook-out at home. Alas, I forgot to never count on anything happening quickly here. The grill was available, but the truck wouldn't bring it from the warehouse until Thursday after 3.
I went to swim aerobics in the morning. Tom and Thomas built a cool robot sent from his pal, Carly back in Warrenton and then, we hit the outback trail!
I'd been hearing a lot about the Telegraph Station lately - a large historical/natural area just a couple kilometers from town. A friend had seen a 2-metre Perentie lizard very up-close there recently; another man went on about the nice trails and a local gal had recommended the carpark for kangaroo sightings in the evening. The also have grills - nice, push-a-button gas grills, free for the using.
We packed chicken breasts and thighs, drinks, lettuce and bread, mayo and the all-important Ocean Spray jellied cranberry sauce (feel free to send a can whenever you want). Cans of baked beans and corn rounded out the meal and I had baked a pumpkin pie with a grave and respectful nod to our fellow pilgrims. Oh, don't forget the camera and binoculars. Oh, and aluminum foil. Oh, something to put the leftovers in. Should we bring these apples? How about macadamia nuts? Oh, hand sanitizer and paper towels. Come on, get in the car!
It was a warm day, only in the 90's. There were nice tables at a good height to sit on as well as eat on. The birds were terrific. I heard the flute-like song of a pied butcherbird and found it sitting on the restroom wall. Flocks of Port Lincoln parrots were chasing each other through the palm trees. Tom and Thomas walked over to the visitors' center while I got the chicken sizzling.

Feeling very Pilgrimmy, we gave thanks a lot: for our home here in this wild, new land; for surviving 3 months armed only with a Visa card and SPF 45, for our friends and family back home.
Our sandwiches and sides were yummy. The company was interesting, too. Right about at pie time, a young kangaroo came hopping into the picnic area. He was in no hurry and soon laid down in the shade of a tree. Ok, "hopping" isn't the right word. See, roos have a kind of non-airborne movement where they are on all-fours and just go: paws.. feet... paws...feet. It's not hopping. Definitely not walking. It's good for eating grass. Let's call it "loping." So, he loped around a little and checked out the picnic table beyond ours. They (2 Aboriginal kids and a white woman) had left to play frisbee. When the Aboriginal kids saw the kangaroo, they crept slowly toward it making a soft clicking noise. It turned and loped right up to them!
Just kidding; it hopped away. When it did, it came on an angle toward us about 10 feet away. Can you find it in both pictures?
When it was at a comfortable distance again, it browsed some grass awhile then went its kangaroo way.
With the kangaroo gone, my men decided they'd had enough food and flies and wanted air conditioning and their robot again.
I told you it was a great day.