I know, I know, some of us love that movie and some hate it. I’m not going to write about the film. The 20-year anniversary documentary is playing, but either way, you are safe to read on.
Truth, fact, history. Lies, fiction, invention. Racism. Yes, I went down a rabbit hole of investigation and research.
Sometimes I lie to myself. For example, I promised myself a short run yesterday morning. I held out a single-mile run like a carrot. When I began running north, I was running straight into a 40mph wind and it was cold. The tide was going out and I repeated, “Just one mile.” I didn’t need to run all the way to what we term the Turnaround Rock, 1.5 miles north. I could stop at the metal stairs near my one-mile marker, turn, and walk a mile home. I was thinking there was a good chance that when I turned toward home the wind would be swinging around and I would still face a headwind. That happens sometimes as the sun rises. So I told myself: You can stop running after a mile.
I ran three miles.*
My baking began on Monday with four loaves of cranberry bread and a chevré cheesecake (that last only because the goat cheese needed to be used and I wanted to strain Greek yogurt for whey to use in pie crusts. On Tuesday, I roasted Delicata squash for Gary’s “pumpkin” pie. (I have made pies with canned pumpkin, fresh sugar pumpkin, acorn, and other squashes. I find actual pumpkin to be nearly tasteless. Roasted Delicata has flavor.) I also roasted and mashed sweet potatoes—which are the exact same thing as what Americans call “yams.” (Actual yams are huge vegetables, a traditional Nigerian staple, and not sweet at all.) Yesterday, I made bread-free dressing, applesauce, cranberry/chili sauce, and two kinds of twice-baked potatoes, including without dairy. Today I hope to caramelize a honey, turmeric, and seed topping for the sweet potatoes, and roast acorn squash for Friday.
An unplanned flight, my adventures eating a Home Ec Thanksgiving dinner, and best wishes…
An internet friend announced on her blog that she has decided not to send holiday cards this year. Her habit was to send nearly 100 cards. Receiving about 20 in return last year has forced her to confront what seems a lack of interest.
I am wondering about the same thing.
This is the season when in years past I would make a decision about sending cards.
Continue readingThanksgiving, holiday memories, oystercatchers, Pilgrims, and my Thankful story about a small child. Sea lions, and giving thanks.
The tiny closet of our condo is already stuffed with clothing I rarely wear. I need to purge. This is the story of our times. We focus on gathering until we run out of room and have to wonder: Why do I need this?
&PRIDE Press 