Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday.
I know it's still months away but it's on my mind. It's a holiday that I wish I would have invented; a holiday I love for two reasons:
1. If you believe your 3rd grade history teacher Thanksgiving brought people from very different cultures together around the table. (Of course, to think fondly of this moment in time it helps to pretend you don't know about the whole smallpox infestation and land grab thing.)
2. It's a holiday designed for appreciating what you have. It's even built into the name for people who need visual or auditory reminders. Still, people forget this. I sort of think we need to switch the words and call it Givingthanks, change it up a bit and refocus us all on what it originally stood for. This ploy just might confuse the airlines enough to make the late November rates almost affordable.*
It's not quite November and I'm not yet sitting around the table with my family, but I'm feeling particularly thankful today. My partner, aka my wine goddess, has been overly supportive of me while I try to figure out the food allergy/sensitivity thing... ordering things I can eat in restaurants, reading labels and making sure I stick to the plan. My best friend has gone up, over, and beyond what one should ever expect from a friend... helping me start this blog, and cooking me up a fabulous meal the other night - all things I could eat (grilled salmon, corn on the cob, string beans from her garden with toasted walnuts and lemon, arugula salad with cucumbers pickled in apple cider vinegar.) I felt and feel completely un-deprived. A dinner at Tilth last night to celebrate a friend's birthday found the gracious cooks happily crafting me a four course meal I could eat.
Today I also give thanks to my family for teaching me ethics and self control. Were it not for that, I may have actually acted out what was in my mind today, refusing to keep it tucked away in my personal lock box of private thoughts. Lacking such self-control I just may have drop-kicked that guy eating a croissant outside of the coffee shop, shoved the pastry in my mouth while he picked himself off the floor, buttery flakes of sweet wheat dough fluttering from my lips. Lord knows, he wasn't grateful enough for it.
*if you are a Saudi prince.
at 10:36 PM