Thanksgiving Rain Makes Me Freshly Thankful

When we got the tree yesterday, Thanksgiving Eve, the sky was so blue with marbled clouds and the sun was happy, warming the skin .

The girls were funny discerning shades of green, texture of branches, the shape. I smiled as Part One of this year’s book – A Christmas Tree Story – is about how Christmas Trees are chosen and at one point my oldest daughter yelled out to my youngest, “Didn’t you read mom’s book? No Christmas Tree is more perfect than another!” hahaha even now… the prose… making its way into my reality.

In my previous post, I mentioned how life has changed and for sure I thought that my reveal of how it changed was going to come in a poetic musing about taking the dogs out in the morning with both hands on my cup of coffee and being able to take in the morning sky because… drumroll… we have a new beautiful gorgeous life changing fence.

For two years, taking them out for relief in the morning has required putting them on leashes, dressing for the weather, and – most days – spinning around while they chase each other on the leashes while I try not to spill my coffee in my opposite hand.

The fence brings this ridiculous amount of freedom and nourishing relief. And though I did go out with them yesterday to take in the morning and though it certainly was life changing – here I am now on Thanksgiving, bringing my online diary to present alongside candlelight and rain.

Steady heavyish rain.

The poetic musing noting heavy themes of freedom when going outside is actually more deeply acknowledging the freedom and relief of staying inside, the knowing they can run out in the rain and I don’t have to… is as genuinely relieving as its opposite. I didn’t love the forecast of rain but here it is now, showing me a new part of my reality. My ability to stay in, reminding me of how life unfolds to teach us…

Smiling now. I think it is important to remember that not only does all hard and all work have its opposite if easy and relief, but that said opposites have opposites within (which then have opposites within, which then have opposites within).

This ongoing understanding life changes and unfolds both as we shift gears or make decisions but then also as those decisions and shifts change what is going on opens us up to mystery.

Who will ever sit and really – truly – figure out all the which ways something will turn and surprise us.

And if they do, is that present moment living?

The Little Red Hen in me feels charmed by her morning task becoming lighter here on Thanksgiving in a way different than I anticipated experiencing…

Now on to set out the turkey, turn the kitchen on and start the day…

The joy of finding the tree mixed with the work and not so much joy of it giving us hives

Lemon Curry Corn Chowder Part 2 @ On the Deck Now – Bellingham

David just got back from a quick run up to Twin Sisters Brewery.

Twin Sisters is not in the top 5 of things I will miss, but top 10 for sure. It has first date spot from my first trip up here plus where I fell in love with malty-beer vibes..

There is this famous drive a little bit south of our house up here called Chuckanut Drive. We stayed at a lookout there once and did the whole art of nothing thing, sat on the perch up in the trees, listened to the water, read, guitar, made up songs and ate from a selection of things I picked up from the bulk foods aisle at Whole Foods. Today reminds me of that day :)

I decided to roast the potatoes (2 fat yukons and a handful of small red ones) in butter, chardonnay, thyme and cinnamon before putting them in with the chowder. The base with the corn is smelling so good. I took it off heat and am letting it chill out for a minute, figure out its identity, before I put the potatoes in – the rest of the wine – bring it to a boil and round it home.

David has apparently taken some master class series on how to not listen to the answers of questions you ask your wife. I am being comical, of course. A different part of my cycle on a not so beautiful day may have me annoyed, but it’s out in the open and we are officially playing a game called “guess thing thing you just agreed to” where I check in that he was thinking with head, heart and stomach on how willing – for example – he is to wait for chowder.

(I mean, given that we are in a blog series about it, I need to make sure tomorrow at sunrise is an acceptable time to eat… just in case I believe this chowder needs to be set out for some kind of midnight ritual after I sage the kitchen…)

Which reminds me, I am neither drunk nor stoned while writing this. Or while cooking this Christ child of a chowder. One of the great feats of my life will be the day when all who love and surround me accept that I was simply born kind of stoned, with a lot of ideas and – coincidentally – kind of droopy eye lids.

He is snacking on this thing I made yesterday (grilled jalapenos, yellow peppers, shrimp and onions with angel hair pasta, lemon and capers) and just asked me to hang on to that recipe. Recipe. Smile. Sigh.

I keep these little notebooks in my kitchens (about to be one kitchen, which does have me thinking about which notebook will be kept in the kitchen once we move) that I just write when I am figuring something out. One time I ended up putting popcorn in a stew I had going in the crockpot. That was terrible and that page was ripped out.

We went to Vancouver the next day and redeemed our entire foodie journey by eating our way through Chinatown. (Which I highly recommend…)

Okay – this post has zero point except that writing without edits for this amount of time is how long the potatoes should roast before you mix them in the chowder and round it home.