Turkey

Funny face. 

I'm a little sad that we didn't celebrate Thanksgiving. No turkey, no stuffing. No quiet moment to consider our blessings (though these days I find myself doing that every few days, if not hours, anyway). No nothing. Except for take-out chicken dinner, but that was after Helena had gone to bed, and it was a treat more in the sense of no cooking time! no dishes! than a feasting celebration of the cornucopia of spiritual realizations and opportunities as well as the material goods that are our life.

Maybe next week, after my deadlines are met, I'll find a turkey on sale and I'll be inspired to season it lovingly, baste it with our wisdom of the true meaning of Thanksgiving. For Helena's sake.

I don't think she'll look back on her childhood and rue the Thanksgiving weekend that went unnoticed when she was not yet 2 years old. But I'm finding a new appreciation for maintaining these kinds of traditions.