Pampers and Paklava

Learning gratitude

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I want some milk.

Sweetheart–May I have some milk…

May I have some milk please, Mama.

Here you go. What do you say?

Thank you, Mama.

Kid art for Thanksgiving

Like most small children, my daughter knows the right words. We do our best to teach her manners, and one day I hope she’ll understand why her mama and papa made such a big deal about learning to say ‘please’ and  ‘thank you.’ But learning gratitude is something else entirely.

I know she is only a preschooler and kids don’t begin to really grasp the notion of genuine gratitude until they are in grade school, but I still try to lay the groundwork. We talk about emotions, how we feel and how other people feel, what those emotions look like on someone’s face or what those emotions feel like in our own bodies. Preschoolers know just how it feels to be happy, sad, and angry, and more importantly, they know how to name these emotions.

We also talk about appreciation. She will rattle off the things she appreciates, most of them things she’s heard me say or that she knows will be met with a positive reaction: our home, her kitties, Bunny, Mama and Dada, her relatives and caregivers–tangibles, what she can see and touch, people she knows.

I often ask her about “the best thing in her day,” so she can begin to identify good things that happened to her, things that made her happy and maybe even connect the dots to the source of her happiness. It’s a good habit to get into. Every night–for years now– before we go to sleep, Big Papa and I talk about what made us happy during the day. We also share a few things we appreciate about each other. I’m not a glass half-full sort of person, though I wish I was, and saying our ‘Happy Things‘ helps remind me there are little things, every day, I’m grateful for.

Then the other day, when I picked her up from school, completely out of the blue, my daughter said: I’m glad you adopted me. I wanted to cry.

I’ve never heard her say this or anything close to it before. And, to be honest, adoption is not something I expect–or even necessarily want–her to be grateful for. She doesn’t owe me anything because I adopted her. Adoption was a decision made for her, by other adults, when she couldn’t make decisions for herself. Plus I know she doesn’t fully comprehend what adoption is or why she was adopted (even though we talk about it). Adoption is a fairly abstract and complex concept for a child of 4-1/2.

Which is why I wanted to cry. Being a mom is a pretty thankless job most of the time. I realize it’s what I signed up for and, as an adult, I need to expect my kid isn’t going to notice, care or feel appreciative of all the things I do to make her world go around. There are plenty of times when I know she doesn’t like me, or when I feel like a meany, a drill sergeant instead of a loving mother.

But when she said those words, I thought: Wow, sometimes she actually feels good inside that I’m her mom. And I am grateful for that.

paper art painting and feathers of turkey

Happy Thanksgiving. May a day of gratitude be yours.

Take the road less traveled, Beth

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The Wishbone

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When I was a little girl, my sister and I watched with rapt attention as Dad carved the Thanksgiving turkey and carefully removed the wishbone.  When dinner was over, the tug of war began. We closed our eyes, held on tightly to one side of the wishbone, made a wish, and hoped to be the lucky winner who landed the longer half, once the wishbone had broken in two.

I won more often than not.  Somewhere along the line, I figured out my chances of getting the ‘long half’ increased considerably if I inched my hand higher up the neck of the wishbone. If my trick worked, I’d feel a little guilty, because I knew I wasn’t playing fair. Sometimes I made sure my sister won, and when I saw how excited she was, I felt happy. Sometimes the entire wishbone affair was left to chance.

Occasionally the wishbone broke evenly, even-steven, we used to say and giggle because my sister’s closest friend’s name was ‘Eve’ and her brother’s name was ‘Steven.’  But more importantly, when the wishbone broke evenly, we both got our wish. To my recollection, we kept our wishes a secret because we believed they would only come true if not revealed to anyone.

Most of the wishes I made have faded from memory. I imagine some were frivolous. I was a little girl, after all. But I do remember one Thanksgiving and one special wish. I was 12-years-old and my sister was 9. She’d had surgery in May, to remove a brain tumor. Chemo and radiation followed. Later that summer, my father had a severe, debilitating stroke. He was only 46.Wishbone

I won the wishbone contest that year. I wished as hard as I could: that my sister and father would live.

My father lived longer than anyone ever expected. He celebrated 41 more Thanksgivings, the last here in Seattle. My sister also celebrated 41 more Thanksgivings, though when she died, she was only 50.

I wish they were both still here, along with my friend Dee, my friend Marshall, and Big Papa’s mom and dad. Like many of us, I feel these losses most during the holiday season. While I know all the wishbones in the world won’t bring them back, how lucky am I that, for a time, I had them in my life. For this, I am deeply thankful.

On this day of Thanksgiving, I am thankful for:

Growing up with a family.

Being blessed with many friends.

Having a beautiful home to live in, and a garden to watch grow.

Food on my table.

My health.

My wonderful husband, our spirited daughter,

and one sweet old cat still purring beside us.

Take the road less traveled, Beth

An Orphan’s Thanksgiving

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Happy Thanksgiving turkey drawing

For many years I spent Thanksgiving solo. After I graduated from high school, I left home, went to college, and then moved 3,000 miles away from my family. I spent many-a-Thanksgiving as an “orphan,” wandering from household to household. Here are a few glimpses from some of my more memorable orphan Thanksgivings:

“Kentucky-themed” Thanksgiving: Suffice it to say that most of the dishes contained bourbon. But the turkey—oh that mouth-watering turkey—the best I’d ever had. I talked about that turkey, dreamt about that turkey, for years, until I met Big Papa and we made it ourselves: brined turkey smoked on wood chips and glazed with maple syrup. In my (very biased) opinion, there is no finer way to cook your bird.

Gourmand Thanksgiving: How can you go wrong when your two hosts are chefs? Hand-made knotted dinner rolls that melt in your mouth, every dish cooked to perfection, each course perfectly paired with something to imbibe. It was like I had died and gone to Thanksgiving heaven.

Vegetarian Potluck Thanksgiving: My hosts did not eat meat. Nor did they want meat cooking in their oven. One of the guests—who could not envision Thanksgiving without turkey—cooked and carved a turkey, and brought it over for dinner. I believe I remember some discussion about whether it could be reheated in the oven, and I do not recall how that debated ended. But in the end, those of us who ate meat had our bird.

The family-who-were-thankfully-not-my-family Thanksgiving: I had Thanksgiving at a friend’s house. She was married. They were well off, and their home had an amazing view. Her tony and well-coiffed mother was visiting from California. Our meal was elegant and delicious. There may have been other guests. I do not recall. What I do remember were the heated arguments between my host and her husband…all evening long. They are no longer married.

Hollywood Thanksgiving: One year, I was dating a guy who worked in the film industry. He was filming a major movie in California, and I flew to visit him on several occasions. One of those occasions was Thanksgiving. We headed to a remote mountaintop near Santa Cruz to have dinner with the family of one of his film-industry friends. If I remember correctly, our host was the friend’s uncle and a movie producer. Both the friend’s mother and grandmother attended. When we arrived the air was filled with a haze of pot-smoke. The hosts were all stoned, and the friend’s mom forgot to put the turkey in the oven. We sat around a large table and people passed a pipe around. Everyone took a hit, except me. Everyone. Including grandma. Grandma regaled us with stories of the days when she lived in San Jose and took her pet Wallabies for walks in the neighborhood. Neither apple nor pumpkin pie was served for dessert. However, pot brownies were.

Wine Country Thanksgiving: Okay, I wasn’t an orphan, but Big Papa and I spent two non-traditional Thanksgivings in the Willamette Valley, wine country. We stayed at a B&B, ate Thanksgiving dinner out a restaurant, and spent the rest of the weekend tasting wine at dozens of regional wineries, many who only open over Thanksgiving weekend. No fuss, no muss and a few caseloads of wine made for a relaxing holiday.

These days, my Thanksgivings look a tad more traditional. Big Papa has cousins who live thirty-minutes south of us. They like us and we like them. For the past two years, we’ve converged for Thanksgiving dinner. Everyone makes a few dishes (I bring Cinnamon-clove ice cream, herbed goat cheese, and a bottle of wine). We sit around, chat, laugh, eat, drink and fawn over Baby Bird, and I feel thankful—so very, very thankful.

Wherever you are spending your holiday, whatever might be on your table, and whoever may be by your side, may you enjoy a day of thankfulness: Happy Thanksgiving!

Take the road less traveled,

Beth

When you wish upon a star

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Sitting by the lakeThis morning I read Baby Bird a new book, Olivia and the Fairy Princess. She loves the original Olivia and I’d heard great reports about this book too. In this book, Olivia is having an identity crisis. There are too many ruffled, sparkly princesses around. She wants to do more than just fit in. She wants to stand out. At the end of the story, as Olivia lies in bed unable to sleep, she starts imagining who she could be.

I read aloud to my daughter:

Maybe I could be a nurse and devote myself to the sick and elderly. I could use my brothers to practice bandaging and various other treatments.

Then I turned the page and continued:

Or maybe adopt orphans from all over the world.

I stopped, took a deep breath, and finished reading the book.

As the day went along I found that I couldn’t stop thinking about this one sentence.  I had a something else in mind to post today, but now I feel compelled to write about this.

There are many fairy tales with an adoptee in the storyline: Cinderella, Snow White, Pinocchio, and Bambi; the list goes on and on. And, as we all know, there is always a happy ending with the protagonist fulfilling his or her dreams, securing a warm home (if not a castle), finding true love, everlasting happiness, and being accepted as part of a healthy, loving family.

When you wish upon a star
Makes no difference who you are
Anything your heart desires
Will come to you

If your heart is in your dream
No request is too extreme
When you wish upon a star
As dreamers do

Fate is kind
She brings to those who love
The sweet fulfillment of
Their secret longing

 

 

 

Like a bolt out of the blue
Fate steps in and sees you through
When you wish upon a star
Your dreams come true

But the truth is that life—for many– is quite unlike the Disney fantasy. It does make a difference who you are, anything your heart desires may not come to you, and fate is frequently unkind. And there are millions of people, not just orphans, who are unable to find a place to lay their head at night, a meal to fill their belly, and family and friends to love and care for them.

Sometimes, I feel selfish that we chose to shower time, money and attention on making a difference for one, when there are so many in need.  It was truly heartbreaking to spend a great deal of time in several orphanages, and see children whose lives are never going to be filled with the opportunities our daughter will have.

For whatever challenges I’ve had or might face, my life is indeed blessed. I live in a beautiful city, inside a cute house with a lovely garden filled with color and nature. Each night I fall asleep in my own bed beside my wonderful husband. While I have lost several friends and family members who were dear to me, I have many incredible friends who sustain me and a family who loves me. I am healthy and fit and eat delicious meals on most nights. I’m able to indulge my interests in photography, gardening, cooking, and writing. I have been able to fulfill some of my dreams: to travel, to marry and to become a mom.

I am one lucky girl.

Happy Thanksgiving to my family, my friends and those of you who faithfully read my blog.

To Big Papa: There are no words to really say how deeply grateful I am to share my life with you.

To Baby Bird: May this, your first Thanksgiving, be the foundation for a life with many more.

 

For each new morning with its light, for rest and shelter of the night, for health and food, for love and friends, for everything Thy goodness sends.

~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Turkey Leek Risotto Recipe

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Turkey Leek RisottoThanksgiving has a few time honored traditions for those of us who cook a turkey: first, you eat your turkey. Next, you have seconds. Later, you wrap up all the turkey leftovers. Then, for the remainder of the week, or for as long as you can mentally gear up, you make turkey sandwiches for lunch, and turkey soup and casserole for dinner.

It doesn’t take long before you’re wailing: That’s it. I’ve had it with turkey leftovers. And then, miraculously, Thanksgiving slips from memory as you head into the rest of the holiday season. A blissful eleven months pass, thoughts of turkey forgotten, until Thanksgiving rears its once-a-year head again.

I’ve been in this boat. But this year I discovered a recipe for Turkey Leek Risotto.

I made it. Big Papa and I ate it. And I’ll be danged if there wasn’t a tear in my eye when we polished off the leftovers from the Turkey Leek Risotto made with our Thanksgiving turkey leftovers.

Trust me. After you finish your last bite of Turkey Leek Risotto, you’ll do two things:

  1. Kiss the freezer where you’ve kept a few cups of frozen turkey stock (yes, yes…that stock recipe I was pimping last week!)
  2. Rue the day you tossed the last of the leftover turkey and said: That’s it. I’ve had it with turkey leftovers!

Turkey Leek Risotto and Delicata squashTurkey Leek Risotto

Note: I served my risotto with Delicata squash (which I baked in the oven with a bit of butter, brown sugar and fresh sage.

Ingredients

  • 5 1/2 cups Turkey Stock (okay, if you don’t have homemade, you can buy it at the store)
  • 1 tablespoon butter, divided
  • 2 teaspoons olive oil, divided
  • 3 cups thinly sliced leek (about 3 large)
  • 3/4 teaspoon salt, divided
  • 1/4 cup finely chopped shallots
  • 1 1/2 cups uncooked Arborio rice or other short-grain rice
  • 1/2 cup dry white wine (I used a dry sherry)
  • 2 cups chopped cooked turkey (light and dark meat)
  • 1/3 cup grated fresh pecorino Romano cheese
  • 1 1/2 tablespoons chopped fresh thyme
  • 1 tablespoon chopped fresh sage
  • 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

How to:

Bring Turkey Stock to a simmer in a medium saucepan (do not boil). Keep warm over low heat.

Melt 1 teaspoon butter and 1 teaspoon oil in a large saucepan over medium heat. Add leek to pan; cook 7 minutes or until tender, stirring occasionally. Stir in 1/4 teaspoon salt. Place leek mixture in a small bowl. Melt remaining 2 teaspoons butter and remaining 1 teaspoon oil in pan. Add shallots to pan; cook 2 minutes or until tender, stirring occasionally. Add rice; cook 2 minutes, stirring constantly. Stir in wine; cook 1 minute or until liquid is nearly absorbed, stirring constantly. Stir in 1/2 cup stock and 1/4 teaspoon salt; cook until liquid is nearly absorbed, stirring constantly. Add remaining stock, 1/2 cup at a time, stirring constantly until each portion of the stock is absorbed before adding the next (about 28 minutes total).

Stir in turkey and leek mixture; cook 1 minute or until thoroughly heated. Remove from heat; stir in remaining 1/4 teaspoon salt, pecorino Romano cheese, thyme, sage, and pepper.

Want more deliciousness that’s not leftover? Check out Wanderfood Wednesday!

Stock up! Four tips and four tricks for making great turkey stock

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Turkey StockBig Papa headed off to work with his turkey sandwich today, just like he’s done every day since we grilled our post-Thanksgiving turkey this past Saturday. I’m sure some of you, or at least those who eat turkey, have been scouring the internet looking for turkey leftover recipes. But, have you considered what to do with your turkey carcass, other than toss it in the garbage?  I say, make turkey stock! If you don’t, you are missing out. Making stock is one of the best ways to use what’s left from your turkey. Plus, you’ll collect bonus points for stretching your precious food dollars even farther.

At this very moment I’ve got turkey vegetable soup, made with homemade stock, simmering on our stove. The kitchen smells amazing and I can’t wait to serve up our soup. I also plan to try a recipe I found for turkey-leek risotto.

How about you? What would you do with turkey stock?

turkey stockTurkey Stock Recipe (Makes ~10 cups)

Note: You can use this recipe with a chicken carcass too.

Ingredients

  • 1 turkey carcass (with meat picked off, chopped and reserved)
  • ~10 cups water
  • TIP! Use 2 cups dry white wine for a nice rich flavor. It’s optional–if you don’t use white wine, add more water.
  • TRICK! (Thank you Auntie Kate) Save cooking scraps in Ziploc freezer bags. Onion skins, raw potato skins, raw or roasted sweet potato or yam skins, apple cores, bell pepper seeds and stems, leek ends, spinach or collard stems, wilted but not rotten veggies from the fridge are all candidates for stock.
  • Note: Do not ever use table scraps in stock. Ever. Use only cooking scraps.
  • Note: Citrus, melon and squash rinds don’t work well in stock because they are too bitter when cooked.
  • 1-2 carrots, cut into large chunks
  • TIP! Chopped fennel bulb can be used in place of the oft recommended 2 stalks of chopped celery. I personally love the slight anise flavor. Again, large chunks.
  • TRICK! Leave the skin on when you cut 1 onion into quarters
  • 3-4 whole garlic cloves
  • 1 handful fresh parsley
  • Tablespoon of whole peppercorns
  • Handful of fresh or dried thyme
  • 2 bay leaves
  • Salt and pepper to taste

 

How to:

Place your turkey carcass in a very large pot, breaking the bones into smaller pieces if necessary so that it will fit.  Cover with white wine and water. Turn the burner on to medium heat.  Add veggie scraps, carrots, onion, fennel or celery and garlic.

Just before water starts to boil turn the heat down to low.  Use a spoon to scrape off any scum that rises to the surface (also little bubbles). These are all fat and other impurities and if you skim them off then your stock will be clear and even more divine.  Let the stock simmer for 1 to 1-1/2 hours, checking periodically to skim off any scum.  Add parsley and bay leaves and simmer for another 1 to 1-1/2 hours.

Use tongs to remove and discard the carcass.  Pour stock through a fine mesh strainer into a large bowl or Tupperware (TRICK! Do this in the sink in case there is spillage), and season with salt and pepper, to taste.

Stock keeps two weeks in the refrigerator and several months (up to six) in the freezer.  TIP! Freeze stock in 2-4 cup portions so you only have to thaw out small amounts to use for your recipes…much easier than trying to chop off a chunk of frozen stock (not that I have done this, mind you). TRICK! When reusing stock reserved in the refrigerator or thawed stock, pour through fine mesh strainer again to remove any fat that congeals at the surface.

Bonus TIP! (Thanks again, Auntie Kate) For even more flavorful stock, before you do anything else, heat ½ cup of water in a large, heavy stock pot, on high or med-high. Chop the onion into dime-sized pieces.

Put the onions into the hot water and spread them out across the pot with a wooden spoon. Allow the liquid to cook away, and watch closely to avoid burning. When the bottom of the pot is turning brown and the onions are sticking, pour in the rest of the water (and wine if using wine) and scrape the brown from the bottom of the pan. This gives the stock a depth and savory-sweetness you won’t get if you skip this step.

Hope everyone had a delicious Thanksgiving. Happy stock-making!

For more yummy tips and tricks, check out Wanderfood Wednesday!

Giving thanks for breath

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Tibetan monks chantingFor the past several Thanksgivings, I’ve attended a fundraiser at my gym for Food Lifeline. I get to take a spin class on the holiday, people in need get food: it’s a win-win. I pedal furiously, sweat profusely and breathe hard. And, with every breath, I tell myself how grateful I am to be able to do exactly this.

The ability to breathe, to walk, to think, to eat, to see, hear and touch is what I am most thankful for this year. I love turkey, the trimmings, and pie. But when it comes right down to it, these truly are the side dishes in life.

This year I count too many loved ones who—in one way or another—face enormous challenges: a sister with cancer, a paralyzed father, a mother-in-law with Alzheimers, a close friend with liver failure, and several friends who have undergone treatment for various cancers. Each has struggled with being able to do some of the things most of us take for granted every day.

So when I sit down for my Thanksgiving meal, I plan to take a moment and breathe deeply, appreciating how it feels when air fills my lungs. I will notice my feet, the way they touch the floor and ground me. Then, as I lift my fork and take a bite, I’ll give silent thanks for being able to feed myself and swallow food, for being well enough to feel hunger and the desire to eat.

As I look around the table at the smiles on the faces of my husband and friends, and listen to the sound of laughter or music playing in the background, I will give thanks for eyes that see and ears that hear. And when I reach out to the person sitting next to me and touch their shoulder, or take their hand, I will notice the warmth between us while I count my blessings for ten fingers that feel.

We, who are fortunate enough to enjoy this holiday, have so much to be thankful for. Our homes, our food, our health, and the loved ones we share our lives with. This year I give thanks for all of this and for the simplest gift life has to offer: breath.

Brined, smoked and glazed: the BEST turkey ever

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Hand-drawn turkey, Thanksgiving About fifteen years ago, I attended a “Kentucky-themed” Thanksgiving feast (Thank you, Alice!). If memory serves, most of the recipes featured bourbon. At least that’s what I remember. That and the turkey.

This turkey was the best tasting turkey I’d ever had. Brined, smoked and glazed: it had that whole salty-sweet, moist-crisp thing goin’ on.  That night I swore that if I ever had a chance to cook turkey in my own home, this was how I was going to do it.

For years I fantasized about that turkey, and talked it up every chance I got. Then I met Big Papa and when we had our first Thanksgiving at our house, I told him this way was the way. Thankfully, he was up for the challenge.

We’d gotten engaged some months earlier and invited our mothers to visit over the holiday so they could meet each other before our wedding.

When Big Papa carved our turkey and tried his first bite, the look on his face said it all. Of course he confirmed my suspicions by announcing: “That’s the best darn turkey I’ve ever had.”

And our moms? They were pretty impressed too.

So here’s the recipe we used, the recipe we will use again and again. Because brined, smoked and glazed turkey is the best turkey. Ever.

 

Cranberry and Zinfandel Brined Turkey with Maple Glaze

Serves 12 (Note: I bought a smaller turkey, about 10 pounds, and cut the recipe in half).

Brine:
2-750 ml. bottles Zinfandel wine (doesn’t have to be expensive Zin)
1 gallon apple cider
1 pound fresh cranberries
1 cup honey
1 cup kosher salt
4 sprigs fresh rosemary
1 tablespoon black peppercorns
4 sprigs fresh sage
2 sticks cinnamon

Turkey:
1-18-pound turkey, preferably free-range and hormone free

Glaze:

Maple syrup, preferably Grade B which is a bit stronger tasting

How to:
To prepare the brine, combine the wine, cider, cranberries, honey, salt, rosemary, peppercorns, sage and cinnamon in a large pan over high heat and bring to a boil. Let the brine boil for about 4 minutes. Remove the pan from the heat, let cool and refrigerate until it reaches about 40-degrees.

Place the turkey in a very large container (or a plastic brining bag). Then pour the chilled brine over to cover. Refrigerate at least 24 hours and up to 48 hours. I brined ours in a bag and turned the bag every so often so that all parts of the turkey had their turn sitting in the brine. The turkey turned a lovely shade of pink.

We grilled our turkey (Thank you, Big Papa!) with cherry wood chips which impart a wonderful fruity, smoky flavor. About an hour before the turkey is finished cooking, I “painted” maple syrup on the skin using a pastry brush.

You could just as easily brine your turkey and cook it in a 350-degree oven. Either way, before you cook the turkey, remove it from the brine and drain well; then discard the brine.

If you are roasting your turkey in the over, roast it until it reaches an internal temperature of 155°F in the breast meat, tenting (draping foil over parts of the bird that are looking done, like the wings) it with aluminum foil (which we did) if it starts to brown too much, about 4 hours. We also checked our bird’s temperature whilst grilling. It’s uber important that turkey meat is cooked thoroughly.

Let the turkey rest 5-10 minutes before carving; internal temperature should rise to 165°F. Carve and serve warm.

Adapted from “Caprial and John’s Kitchen: Recipes for Cooking Together,” by Caprial and John Pence (Ten Speed Press)

 

Want to be thankful for more deliciousness? Check out Wanderfood Wednesday!

Happy things

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Eleven months ago, Big Papa and I started a new habit. Every night, before we go to sleep, we take turns and share a few “happy things” from our day. Then we offer an “appreciation,” something about each other that we are grateful for.

I came up with this idea to counterbalance the frustration, fears and stress in our lives: aging parents, work, home improvement projects, illness (ours or others), aches and pains, insecurities, and the bumps along the road in our journey to adopt. Sometimes it seems like it is so much easier to focus on problems and negativity in life, or all the things we want rather than everything we have.

This might sound Pollyannaish, but I have to tell you, it works! We’ve kept the nightly ritual going and now, nearly a year later, I can honestly say that going to sleep at night with happy thoughts in my brain, has made me a happier person.

Sure, I still fret about our adoption, wish I could buy jeans a size smaller, and feel sad to see my father slip away bit by bit. Careless drivers make me angry and I continue to miss my friend Dee, who passed away two years ago (and who I always called on Thanksgiving Day to tell her how grateful I was for her friendship).

Red Finch in FallThat said, I feel much more aware of the little things that bring me joy each and every day. Maybe it’s a morning when the Cascade Mountains are so clear it feels like I could reach out and touch them. Or a cold afternoon spent watching the birds enjoy the new suet feeder. I don’t feel like I’m bragging when I cite accomplishments from my day that I am proud of: a good work out, two articles written for my writing group, an organized closet or a tasty meal that I made using herbs from our garden.

It is so energizing to share these happy moments with Big Papa along with one appreciation for something he did or said or just for being the wonderful person he is.  Hearing the things that make him happy puts a smile in my heart. And, when he tells me what he appreciates about me, I feel noticed, acknowledged, and loved. Sharing our ‘happy things’ and ‘appreciations’ has been one of the best things we’ve done for our relationship…and for ourselves.

Most of us living in the U.S. have a lot to be thankful for. There is great abundance in our lives, yet we often fail to appreciate what we have in the midst of harried days, and the perceived pressure to be more, do more and have more.

In honor of this year’s Thanksgiving holiday, I celebrate the happiness in my life. There is so much I appreciate:

  • Big Papa: many hours of listening, his steadiness and love, and a big hug every day
  • A healthy, strong and fit body
  • My home: a roof over my head, a bed to sleep in, good food to eat
  • Friends: old, new, near and far
  • Maggie, our cat, who makes me smile and laugh
  • The beautiful northwest that I am so lucky to call home
  • Being able to write my thoughts and put them out there for the world to see
  • That my family members are all still alive and able to see the  happiness in my life
  • My own backyard: the garden, the birds
  • Mamas with Cameras, my writing group and Mom’s Night Out
  • Trips around the Sound, around the state and over the seas
  • …and a few wondrous things – that for now – I’ll keep close inside my heart

To my friends and family, and to anyone who reads this post, may a day of thanks be yours.  Between running here and there, cleaning the house or cooking up a storm, take some time to remind yourself of the beauty in your life, and of the people, places and moments that make you happy. Close your eyes and think deeply about someone who touches your life, someone you appreciate. Better yet, pick up the phone or take them in your arms and tell them.