Giving Thanks...before Christmas

It seems that holiday decorations go up earlier and earlier each year, with hardly a breath between
Halloween and the hallowed season of Christmas. In our frenzied anticipation of yuletide cheer, I sense an air of desperation. I totally get it. Like the song from the musical, Mame, proclaims, "We need a little Christmas, right this very minute!" Indeed, we do. But. Let's not just skim over Thanksgiving as a day to try out roasting turkey as practice for Christmas dinner. Let's stop and relish this quiet day, Christmas's gentle sister.

With this thought in mind, I composed a little poem today for some "compare and contrast" between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Full disclosure: it's not art, but it's from the heart.

Giving Thanks Before Christmas

by Kathryn Wood Ahearn

Christmas is cake, and Thanksgiving's a pie.

Thanksgiving is earth, and Christmas is sky.

Thanksgiving's a sweater—Christmas, a gown.

One wears a cap while the other, a crown.

                                    ~

Thanksgiving's a whistler, and Christmas, a choir.

One plugs in bright lights, one stokes a warm fire.

Thanksgiving's a turkey—Christmas, a dove.

Both celebrate blessings, and friendship, and love.

How perfect Thanksgiving preludes Christmas glee,

a day to give thanks before lighting the tree.

                                    ~

Christmas will sparkle, Thanksgiving will glow.

Both honor the one from whom all blessings flow.

Thanksgiving is sunlight, and Christmas, a star,

but wise men and family both travel afar

to give up their thanks, then give presents away,

gifts from the heart by camel or sleigh.

                                    ~

They say Christmas comes but one day a year,

but a time to count blessings is always right here.

So give thanks each night as you kneel down to pray

and honor the lessons of Thanksgiving Day.

Thanks for stopping by.  Y'all come back, now (and have a Happy Thanksgiving!)

Kate

We Gather Together...as we socially distance

2020 has been the year of irony. 

The very things that pull us together, push us apart, and vice versa. The entire world

has come together in the sharing of a single virus. A virus that, while it reminds us of our joint human frailty and similarity, has forced us behind smile-covering masks and into our socially-distant corners. And, for some, it has cast loved ones into a place from which they will never again return in this earthly life. 

The United States presidential election has brought the citizens of the country together, as never before, to exercise our freedom to vote. We came together in record numbers to cast our votes, either by mail or in person. And yet. And yet, that very election has pushed so many of us into opposite corners, across a political divide that has, for many, become intensely personal. 

And now, we come to the season for giving thanks. 

November 2019 was the first time in many years that both of my daughters, along with my sons-in-law and three grandchildren, could gather together with my husband and me for a Thanksgiving dinner. My older daughter’s husband has a military career, which has caused their family to often be too far away to join us for the Thanksgiving holiday. I was confident that we’d have a repeat of that festive gathering in 2020, while they were still stationed only an hour away from us. But then...the curse of Covid 19 struck, snatching away our plans, just as we learned that Thanksgiving 2021 will find them stationed several hundred miles away. 

And while I’m deep into my pity party, I might add how hard it is to refrain from embracing all of them for the past nine months, especially our 13-year-old and 16-year-old granddaughters, who will be moving so far away next year, and our 22-month-old grandson who, although he lives just an hour away, may as well be across the country as far as hugging distance is concerned. 

This year, we had a masked and socially distant exchange of Thanksgiving side dishes and desserts which we will enjoy

separately in our own three homes along with the turkey each will prepare for their families. We are all trying our best to protect one another from this dreadful illness. An illness that has had tragic consequences in so many families. 

And so, the first thing for which I give thanks this year, is that none of us has contracted it. None of us has fallen ill. We will remain socially distant because it’s one way we show love for one another. 

The second thing for which I give thanks, is the gift of technology. The Internet can be a dangerous and wasteful place to spend our time, but it can also be a lifesaver when we need to draw close to one another for social, creative, or business gatherings. With video chats, I can interact with my family and friends in ways unheard of a few years ago.

Because of the World Wide Web, I can connect with readers and other writers. And our beloved writers’ group has continued to meet twice a month via Zoom, proving it is possible to teach old dogs, new tricks, after all. (Speaking of dogs, this technological wonderment is responsible for bringing me a whole new trans-Atlantic world of friendship and inspiration through the “Nibblers” Facebook group of dog-lovers I wrote about a couple months back.)

So, I give grateful thanks for the love and health of my family, and for the fellowship of kindred spirits around the world. And, if the worse happens and Covid 19 strikes close to home, I give thanks that we have the technology to draw near to one another and provide the warmth and support we all need in a world that could, otherwise, be a cold and distant place. 

Thanks for stopping by. Y’all come back, now. (And keep smiling behind that mask as we count our blessings, this Thanksgiving.) 

Kate

God's Voicemail...divine humor

"Sharing a Laugh" photo by author's mother, Oleta Wood

The qualities of good-hearted laughter have been promoted throughout the ages of mankind. And, make no mistake, I refer to humor blossoming from a good heart, not derisive laughter spewing from mean-spiritedness. As with many of us who have spent some time on this earth, there have been periods in my life when I wondered if true laughter would ever be heard in my home and heart, again. If it would ever bubble up from my spirit, or from that of a loved one, and fill the air with joy and light. Those were dark times, indeed, but thankfully temporary. I have been so fortunate to have people in my life who can be counted on to bring much-needed levity to most any situation. I count my sister-in-law, Betty, at the top of that list. She has blessed our family with her gentle humor since her marriage to my brother, decades ago. I’ve often said, she’s one person I want around in times of stress and sorrow because she can always bring a smile to my face and hope to my heart. Everyone’s family needs a Betty.

"Kate Laughs" 

We’ve all heard the wisdom of Proverbs 17:22– “A cheerful heart, is good medicine.” And I’ve just discovered a wonderful new favorite from writer, Anne Lammott– “Laughter is carbonated holiness.” But the quote to which I so often return, is from an unknown source– “Blessed are those who can laugh at themselves, for they shall never cease to be amused.”

I learned the joy of laughing at oneself– our human foibles, eccentricities, and comical misfires– from my mother and her mother before her. Many a time, I joined my mother and grandmother in belly-clutching, tear-rolling, breath-catching laughter stemming from something comical they said or did. This was usually something they had not intended to be funny at all, and that made it all the more hilarious. One of the last wonderful laughing spells I shared with my mother, before her passing in 2016, occurred at Thanksgiving.

"Mama and Kate Share a Laugh" photo by author's husband, Bill Ahearn

As the family matriarch, we called upon Mama to say the Thanksgiving prayer blessing over our dinner. Surrounded by the loving presence of children and grandchildren, all waiting to dive into our bountiful feast, Mama began her prayer. It was a bit long, but filled with heart, as she recounted her blessings and spoke her prayers for those at the table and those present in spirit. Then, she fell silent for a moment and ended by saying, “Mmmm...buh bye.” We all opened our eyes and mouths and looked at her. Mama had just left a message on God’s heavenly answering machine! It took her a beat but, when she realized what she’d done, burst into laughter. Thank goodness! We could all join her, knowing she was delightfully aware of the humor of the moment.

I believe that spark of humor is, indeed, a divine gift to humanity, and I am thankful it’s been my lifelong companion.

Thanks for stopping by! Y'all come back now.

Kate

Giving Thanks...for dirty feet

For this month's post, during the season of giving thanks, my thoughts turn to gratitude as I realize all that I have to be thankful for. And, as I swept the floors today in preparation for friend and family visits, I got to thinking about all that dirt, where it came from, and what it actually meant to me. Lo, and behold, that dirt spawned unexpected gratitude and this new poem was born!

Giving Thanks

by Kate Louise Wood

Dirt tracked inside

and, as I sweep,

Thanksgiving sings

upon my lips.

For if the source

of my day’s toil

was gone away,

I’d surely weep

and long to grab

my broom and sweep

the muddy trail
of those dear feet.

Thanks for stopping by...y'all come back, now! And Happy Thanksgiving, one and all!

Kate

Sage Advice about Holiday Thyme...and other seasonal herbs

"Bill's Turkey" by KLWood

For many of us the holidays, stretching from Thanksgiving to Christmas, are alive with aromas that transport us to days gone by, full of the love and warmth of family and friends. A good part of this comes from a mixture of herbs we often use with turkey and stuffing (or in the case of this Southern girl--dressing, which is baked outside the bird.) Today we take a look at that traditional concoction of aromatic herbs and explore the individual components to discover the qualities of their essential oils.

Thyme: Warming, pain relieving, circulation aid

Sage: Aids respiratory, reproductive, and nervous systems

Marjoram: Warming, antispasmodic, circulation aid

Rosemary: Analgesic

By Stacy Spensley from San Diego, via Wikimedia Commons

Black Pepper: Warming, pain relieving, circulation aid

Nutmeg:  Relaxing, anti-inflammatory, antiseptic, bactericidal 

So, whether you sprinkle the herbs on your turkey, stir them into your dressing (stuffing,) or add their essential oils to your favorite carrier oil/lotion and rub it on yourself, the scents of the season will bring you comfort and joy!

Have a wonderful holiday season, dear Reader. Thanks for stopping by...y'all come back now! 
Kate

Giving Thanks...no matter what

Detail from "The First Thanksgiving" by Jennie Augusta Brownscombe, 1914

I beg your indulgence as I take a blogging break and simply reflect upon all of which I have to be thankful. 

Like most folks I, too often, let minor things annoy me and do my share of grumbling. But then...I drive past the large fortress of a prison up the road a ways and give thanks neither I nor a loved one is in residence there. I observe a severely disabled woman laboriously crossing the street and give thanks my minor aches and pains are reminders I am able to walk about on my own two feet. I see a man riding his ramshackle bicycle in the pouring rain and give thanks for the expensive gasoline I can pump into my car. I pass by a cemetery where a graveside service is underway and give thanks for the dirt my husband tracks into the house.

Everywhere I look, whether in my own neighborhood or across the world via TV and the Internet, I am reminded of just how fortunate I am. It really is all a matter of perspective and Thanksgiving is a good opportunity to remember that universal fact. 

Have a good couple weeks, dear Reader. Thanks for stopping by...y'all come back now! (And keep counting your blessings.)

Kate

We Gather Together...a Thanksgiving Excerpt from Sea Snow, the gentle haunting of a 19th century lighthouse

"The First Thanksgiving at Plymouth" by Jennie A. Brownscombe

Those of us in the United States are preparing for tomorrow's All-American Holiday of Thanksgiving which falls on the fourth Thursday of each November. (Of course, like many American traditions, it probably has its roots in British and European harvest celebrations.) Where and when the First Thanksgiving was observed is up to some debate, some saying it was the 1621 Pilgrims' Thanksgiving in Plymouth, Massachusetts  while others believe it was the 1619 Settlers' Thanksgiving at Berkeley Plantation in Charles City County, Virginia. Either way, it is a day to give thanks for all of our blessings, big and small, with many of us celebrating by eating copious amounts of food!

Today, I would like to take you back to a traditional celebration that would have been at home in turn-of-the-20th century Massachusetts by way of printing an excerpt from my novel, Sea Snow, the gentle haunting of a 19th century lighthouse. Here the villagers gather together to enjoy each others' company and favorite foods as the children perform a Thanksgiving pageant. 

"Freedom From Want" by Norman Rockwell

...High, clear voices were heard in the distance and we all craned our necks toward the garden from which the sound came. A line of children, from youngest to oldest, marched in single file, singing “We Gather Together” as they approached. They were dressed in Pilgrim costume, black trousers and jackets for the boys and black dresses with starched white aprons and caps for the girls. Each one carried something symbolic of the harvest—pumpkins, gourds, clusters of grapes, bowls of cranberries and raspberries and nuts—and the tallest boy, bringing up the rear, proudly bore a great platter holding an enormous, roasted turkey, its golden brown skin glistening in the autumn sunlight. 

 With great ceremony, the children set down their treasures on a table until there was a long, colorful centerpiece stretching the length of the rows of tables where sat the admiring adults. Once the young man set his turkey on one of the serving tables, the children gathered into a cluster, all eyes on the garden. They completed the last verse of their Thanksgiving hymn just as drumbeats were heard resounding from the garden entrance. Gasps of  “Ooo’s” and “Ah’s” emitted from the grown-ups as another line of children, dressed in all manner of Indian garb, began their parade toward the tables. Brown leggings and shirts for the boys, and short, brown shifts for the girls, formed the backdrop for fanciful ornaments of feathers and beads and seashells. I noticed their feet were wrapped in soft, tan cloth, secured with leather cord. Each young “Indian” carried a gift of speckled Indian corn or a fish fashioned, quite realistically, from papier-mâché. These were placed on the tables among the Pilgrims’ gifts, to the steady drumbeat of a serious-faced little boy, his skin darkened for the occasion, blue eyes startlingly bright against his new complexion. The Indians joined the Pilgrims and all sang one verse of  “Come Ye Thankful People Come” with our minister urging us all to join in.

As the voices died down, he stepped before the children and raised his hands and closed his eyes, signaling the saying of the blessing. We all bowed our heads as Rev. Harris intoned a prayer of thanks for the bounteous goodness of God and for all the blessings He had bestowed upon us, particularly the blessing of these lovely children. With “Amen’s” arising from the gathering, Mr. Buchanan instructed us to take the plates we’d brought for the occasion and line up to share in the smorgasbord.

 I’ve heard of “groaning boards” before, and I think those tables would have groaned if they’d had voices! Never have I seen such a delicious display. Rev. Harris carved the great turkey and offered up juicy slices to adjunct the rest of the food. The tables were resplendent with corn puddings, baked beans, sliced beef, chicken and turkey, roasted potatoes—both white and sweet—string beans, butter beans, cranberry sauce, greens, and an incredible assortment of desserts. I cannot begin to name them all, everything from pumpkin pies sweetened with maple syrup to buttery pound cakes, to my favorite—Jenny’s sweet potato pie. I was proud to see my pie gobbled up quickly (although Joseph gazed forlornly at the empty dish, making me promise to fix another just for him!)

 We returned to our places at the tables and joyfully dug into our heavily laden plates. There was a chorus of satisfied remarks as we dove in, with many an inquiry as to “who made this pudding,” “these beans,” “this pie,” etc. It was a glorious time of food and fellowship! I introduced Mother and Father to everyone in turn, and I could see the blossom of peace blooming on Mother’s face as she was reassured, once more, of her daughter’s well being in this “foreign” land.

Once we were completely sated, Mrs. Buchanan stood at the end of one of the tables and rang a bell for our attention.

 “Now,” she said, “to complete the day, the children will give each of you a small piece of paper and place pencils on the tables for you to share. Please write down one thing for which you are truly thankful and pass your paper to the end of the table where either an Indian or a Pilgrim is standing. Once all have been collected, Mr. Buchanan will place them in the Thanksgiving fire and their ashes will rise to heaven in a symbolic gesture of our gratitude!”

 Dutifully, we set to our task. Some quickly wrote down their blessing while others thoughtfully scratched their heads or rubbed their chins in concentration. The choice was very difficult for me as there is so much for which I am thankful. Seeing the distress of those of us trying to decide among our blessings, Mr. Buchanan rose and said, “Remember, this is just one of your blessings. Just write down whatever comes into your heads. God knows your gratitude isn’t limited to this choice!”

 I scribbled down my response and passed it down the table, playfully slapping Joseph’s hand as he tried to read it. As the slips of paper were handed to them, the children dropped them into carved-out pumpkins, stationed at the head of each row of tables. Each pumpkin, brimming with thanks, was then carried to the schoolmaster standing by a great bonfire.

 “Dear God, Father, and Provider of us all, may the fragrance of these expressions of thanksgiving fill Heaven with their sweetness and gratitude.”

 With that, Mr. Buchanan took a pumpkin from each child, in turn, and emptied the contents onto the leaping flames.

 “Looks kind of pagan to me,” I heard Sam’s raspy whisper.

 “Shh!” Esther scolded.

 A titter of laughter rippled through the gathering, threatening to break the mood so skillfully cast by the dramatic Mr. Buchanan. When the last thankful notes sent smoke spiraling up toward the heavens, the schoolmaster turned and pronounced, “A Happy Thanksgiving to us all!”...

Have a good week, dear Reader. Thanks for stopping by...Y'all come back now!

Kate

("The First Thanksgiving at Plymouth" (1914) By Jennie A. Brownscombe : This image is in the public domain because its copyright has expired.)

Giving Thanks...for 18th century Brunswick Stew

Brunswick Stew

So, I am setting aside the diverse swirling claims for the origin of this Southern culinary classic comfort food, be it place or date of origin, and sharing the recipe with which I grew up. This particular recipe comes from the Chowning's Tavern Cookbook of Colonial Williamsburg.

 For those of you who may not know, Williamsburg was the political, educational, and cultural center of Virginia from 1699 to 1780. It is home to the College of William and Mary which received its charter from King William III and Queen Mary II of England on February 8, 1693. Second in age only to Harvard, William and Mary educated many of America's Founding Fathers including George Washington and Thomas Jefferson and is still a vibrant and revered college to this day. Check out William and Mary at: http://www.wm.edu/index.php

Colonial Williamsburg, Virginia

To prevent the deterioration of one of America's historical gems, two men joined forces in the 1920's to preserve, restore and, when necessary, accurately replicate the buildings of Colonial Williamsburg. The two men were the rector of Williamsburg's Bruton Parish Church, the Reverend W.A.R. Goodwin, and wealthy philanthropist, John D. Rockefeller, Jr.  Today you can stroll the streets of the town, eat in its taverns, and enjoy its shops along with costumed reenactors for a real 18th century experience. For more information about Colonial Williamsburg visit: http://www.history.org/index.cfm

18th Century American Feast

Now, for that recipe that will be part of my Thanksgiving celebration (which, for our family, stretches from Thursday through Sunday of next week!)  Feel free to alter according to your own taste (the early cooks probably included squirrel.) Serve it with cornbread (fried or baked) and/or ham biscuits (thin, succulent slices of Virginia or country ham nestled inside warm, buttered biscuits.)

This makes a large pot of stew but it freezes well and actually improves in rich flavor when prepared ahead of time and slowly re-heated.

Brunswick Stew from the Chowning's Tavern Cookbook

~~ Ingredients:

• 2 chickens (about 3 pounds each), cut into 6 or 8 pieces 
• 4-5 large tomatoes, peeled, seeded, and chopped, or 2 (16-ounce) cans, drained, seeded, and chopped 
• 4 cups fresh or frozen corn kernels 
• 3 medium all-purpose potatoes, peeled and cut into 1/2-inch dice
• 2 large onions, thinly sliced
• 2 cups fresh or frozen lima beans
• 2 cups fresh or frozen sliced okra
• 1 tablespoon salt, or to taste
• 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, or to taste 
• 1 teaspoon sugar, or to taste 

Directions:

In a large pot, place the chickens and add enough water to cover, 2-3 quarts. Bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat to medium low and simmer, partially covered, until the chicken is falling off the bones and the broth is well flavored, 2-3 hours. Use a slotted spoon to transfer the chicken to a bowl and cool.

Skim the broth. Add the tomatoes, corn, potatoes, onions, lima beans, and okra. Season with the salt, pepper, and sugar. Bring to a simmer over medium heat. Reduce the heat to medium low and cook, stirring often, until the potatoes are tender, about 20 minutes.

Meanwhile, pull the chicken off the bones. Add the chicken to the vegetables and taste the stew for seasoning. Add more salt, pepper, or sugar as desired. Serve hot in warmed bowls. ~~

Have a good week, dear Reader. Thanks for stopping by...Y'all come back now!

Kate

Photo Credits:

Brunswick Stew--  By Joe Loong (http://www.flickr.com/photos/joelogon/2256844148/) [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

Colonial Williamsburg, Virginia--  By Harvey Barrison from Massapequa, NY, USA (Colonial Williamsburg Uploaded by AlbertHerring)  [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)],  via Wikimedia Commons

18th Century American Feast--  By Harvey Barrison from Massapequa, NY, USA  (Colonial Williamsburg  Uploaded by AlbertHerring) [CC-BY-SA-0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons