How Donna Peak Spends Her Thanksgiving

Written by Donna Peak

I grew up in rural western Pennsylvania, about 30 miles east of Pittsburgh. I was born and raised there; I went to high school and college there; I landed my first professional job as an advertising copywriter there. But at age 25, I decided I needed a change of scenery, and I moved 200 miles south to Virginia, leaving my friends and family — everything that was comfortable and familiar — behind.

It was terrifying, but as I settled in, I found that the folks I met in my new home town were in much the same situation as I was. Very few people are born and raised in Northern Virginia. They’re mostly transplants from other states and countries, here for government jobs or work in the tech industry. In our self-imposed expatriation from everything we knew, we became our own support system; our own family.


Friendsgiving falls in that sweet spot after the Thanksgiving Day turkey-coma wears off but before the Christmas crush sets in. Everyone is invited. They pile into my house from miles around until it bursts at the seams. The house is filled with music and laughter. The kids get all sugared up and run around like banshees on the loose. There’s never enough seating; there’s always too much food; but there’s just the right amount of good friends to share it with. It’s loud. It’s chaotic. And it’s a blast.

Keeping time-honored traditions alive is something to treasure, but creating new ones is part of the legacy we leave for the future. Let your log home be the place where these cherished new memories are made.