I’m back! Finally I feel like myself again after weeks of antibiotics, steroids and chasers of inhaled steroids. I wake in the morning without a drag in my step or a drudge in my being that I have to actually exist and breathe. Gosh I love drugs! So since I am feeling top of my game I am ready to let it out, the thing that is eating at my craw.
I love Thanksgiving. I love setting my long table with my nice dishes, crystal and silverware. I love preparing heavy-fattening-caloric foods and topping it off with pumpkin pie piled high with real whipped cream. I love family in a tryptophan induced state gathered to play games and then all going to the movie theater at night. I bet you are now thinking what’s got her craw if she loves Thanksgiving so much.
I have been driving around lately doing errands, car-pooling teenagers here and there all the while I notice the turkey’s got no respect. What is with the world that they must hurry Thanksgiving along and string Christmas lights across houses eaves? I’m all for the pre-stringing; smart guys climb to the roof when the weather is in the seventies in preparation for the big light switch pull. But. But beaming your house all aglow already—NO! Then there is nuts who have the Christmas tree standing lit and decorated in the front windows of there homes. Why? What’s the hurry? I am certain these are the folks who tire of trees and lights by December 25 and can’t wait to disassemble the splendor of holiday cheer. I nearly died when I drove past a house with its 7-foot blow up Santa standing proud in the yard amongst 1000 twinkling lights.
Stop! Enough I tell you. Turkey needs some respect. He needs his, deserves his, day on the calendar. Come on people the pilgrim didn’t break corncob with the Indian to be overshadowed by Santa Claus and twinkling fiber optics. There is beauty in dry Indian corn clusters hanging on the front door. Cornucopias as center pieces spilling out harvest of plenty. There is undeniable pleasure in carving the turkey while giving thanks to the many blessing that touch our lives. Why can’t the world see this? Why do we have to rush to sell presents with all these pre-pre-black Friday sales? Why do radio stations have to spoil the excitement of Christmas music by playing it non-stop starting two weeks ago? Can’t we find the joy in turning on the radio the Friday after Thanksgiving to hear Bing Crosby sing us “White Christmas” while we wake at 5am to shop and score the hottest item of the season? What is up with the need to pressure the year to end?
In protest with the utmost respect for the turkey I will not listen to a single Christmas carol, pre-string lights on my eaves or purchase a gift. I will savor every November day that the calendar offers while I prepare my list of the things I am most grateful for this Thanksgiving, 2009.
Long live the turkey. Well, till he roasts in my oven.