Thanksgiving Dinner

thanksgiving-turkeyThanksgiving dinner was potatoes, omelet, and kale.

Potatoes rough and fragrant from the now-sleeping beds, boiled, fried in butter, with pepper and salt. Eggs gathered in a basket from the United Nations of chickens, green and tan, blue and pink, freckled, and brown. Folded with onions braided onto a string. A few cherry tomatoes, wet and burst from the rain. And cheese, melted, inside.

Also kale dark and ferrous, with red russian veins.

Dessert was a cookie—bought, not home-grown. Baked and sold at Friday market by my neighbour, Joy. With spices and cinnamon, pecans and seeds.

I dined alone, on the misty blufftop, to the sound of the waves.

For this.

I give thanks.

 

 

2 Responses to “Thanksgiving Dinner”

  1. Tannis Says:

    I dined with others at a kitchen table.

    A late supper with all the traditional fare and fixings.

    For this.

    I give thanks.

  2. Linda Says:

    Actually, you weren’t “alone.” The spirit of the misty blufftop and the sound of waves joined you. t’ve been “alone” on Thanksgiving with the company of whatever sights and sounds showed up. Enjoyed it. Eating a simple (but special) Thanksgiving dinner this way makes it more introspective, mindful, and less commercial. But I would have eaten more than 1 cookie.

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