Well, maybe it is. Everybody’s posting on how grateful they are for this and that, but I just had to jump on the bandwagon. I am up to my elbows in pottytraining my two-year-old. That’s rather early or a little late, depending on who you talk to. All I know is I was tired of fighting Adrian as I tried to change his diapers. And, I don’t know if this is a cloth diaper thing, but it just gets disgusting after a while. I mean, he’s two. He’s not an infant anymore. So I figured I might as well give it a try. What did I have to lose? If it didn’t click in a few days, I’d just put him back in diapers and try again when he’s a little older. Well, what I had to lose was a clothed little boy at my parents’ Thanksgiving table tomorrow. He’s doing so well running around half-naked that I don’t want to destroy what he’s learned so far. I think I will put some underwear on the kid, though.
I said all that to explain that writing time is at a premium even more than usual this week. So I’m posting on thankfulness partly because I am super grateful and partly because I’m lazy and couldn’t think of a better topic. What else could I possibly write about right now?
I guess there’s baking. Camilla helped me assemble my spectacular sweet potato casserole with pecan topping (I eschew marshmallows) today. It’s all set to pop into the oven. I also made an apple pie just for the heck of it. Exactly what we need to eat the day before Thanksgiving. Actually, I bought the apples a few weeks ago thinking that I couldn’t live through an autumn without making (and eating) my apple pie and this is the first chance we’ve had to actually do it. So, along with the rooster Todd slaughtered the other night, that should make for a tasty evening.
Oh yes, the rooster. We thought we had four hens. And then two of them started crowing. That explains why those two weren’t laying eggs. I am actually not entirely sure I will be able to eat much of Emily Emilio. I feel a tad bit nauseated just thinking about it, but I know that is just a product of the mass-market-food mentality I’ve always been part of. This is where food comes from, right? (Unless your a vegetarian, in which case I do apologize.) Chicken from the grocery store doesn’t bother me but isn’t it more natural to eat what you’ve grown on your own land? But that’s an entirely different post.
Or I could write about pottytraining and how I didn’t really want to let Adrian go bottomless, but people were telling me it was quicker. And it actually does seem to work, but now what do I do because he does have to wear pants this winter. But that’s probably another post, too.
So what am I thankful for? Sweet treats. Good eats. The smells of Autumn, including applesauce simmering on the stove. The burning steam from the canner as I check on the six (yes, only six) jars of applesauce I made from a whole bushel.
A husband who comes home from work early, cleans and winterizes the chicken coop and then sends me upstairs to write. And somehow manages to see me and love me after all these years of same old me.
Precious voices that scream out songs in jarring medleys. And ask me over and over to read or play games or just to listen. Voices which are currently asking me to come downstairs so we can eat aforementioned dinner and get on to the good stuff–apple pie and Mary Poppins.
I am thankful for the tears that run down my face as I compose this. My heart is full.