Gratitude

For the past three years, we've followed a new tradition with my now mother-in-law: a Thanksgiving morning poetry slam. Most everyone who attends brings something original, and poems have ranged from haiku to songs. I've written a poem for this event each year, and since I have this nifty blog this year, and I don't have any sepia tinted photos of turkey, oyster stuffing, and a beautifully set table, I thought I'd share my poem for the obligatory T-day post. So here it is: my 2011 Thanksgiving poem on gratitude:


I'm telling you
this life is a tightrope walk.
One thin stretched wire only
to balance on -
abyss and God-only-knows-what
on either side.


I think I feel the teetering the most
when I stop to pick up your gloves left there on the floor
when I run my hands under warm water in the kitchen sink
when I walk through our front door -
whatever it is (although it's almost always something simple)
that causes my stomach to seize and I realize fully
how utterly, completely, and overwhelmingly in love
I am with this life.


I believe the only thing that can save me is gratitude.


When I give thanks
it lifts my eyes to the horizon.


In thanks is where it is each step only that matters.


In thanks, I know that where each foot is at any time is enough to make the steps that led me there worth it
and the unfailing uncertainty of each step ahead of me, okay.


Standing in thanks for the here and now shores my footing -
the abyss falls away
and I find again the courage to move forward
step by step.


I've come to really like this tradition - it's right up there with the oyster stuffing.

A perfect pesto

I had some errands to run after work tonight, and all I really wanted to do for dinner was stop in somewhere along my way home and pick up something quick. But in an effort to be a little healthy (Thanksgiving is upon us) and save a little money, I restrained myself and made it past at least two Qdoba's and home.


I remembered when I got home that last week I had bought the ingredients to make the linguine with pea pesto from The Smitten Kitchen blog. And I'm really glad I made it past those Qdoba's. This was fantastic and easy - a winning combo!


The only changes I made to this recipe were to cut down on two ingredients - the cheese and the olive oil - to try and make it a bit healthier. I used about half of the amounts of these she puts in her recipe, and I didn't miss a thing.


This wasn't only delicious and easy, it was also pretty - although, of course, my photos don't do it justice.



Before I used my favorite tool, my immersion blender,
to whip this into a pesto.



I loved how green this was!


Bottom line? As good as Qdoba can be for a quick meal, I definitely recommend trying this instead.

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And in other news - a very happy Thanksgiving holiday to all!

Mashed

No, this entry isn’t about my recent side dish of choice (mashed sweet potatoes with a little nutmeg, cinnamon, milk, and butter = heaven), but more about what my life has been lately – a mish mash of blog distracting events.

First off, work has been totally, certifiably crazy. But if there’s one thing this blog isn’t about, it’s my job.

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A few weekends back we went to NYC to watch my sister-in-law run the marathon. It was a great, albeit exhausting (yes, for me! just a spectator!), experience, made only slightly less great by the woman who felt the need to hurl the b--- word at me as we calmly walked (okay, we were running like crazy people) to catch our train. When I say woman, I mean of the 50-60 year old variety. Really? We haven’t learned better behavior by that age?

This is literally the best photo I took the whole weekend. Not much to say for my photog skills.

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Last weekend, I went to visit my sister and my adorable niece, and had the most amazing time smothering her (the niece) with kisses, encouraging her (the niece) to walk, and laughing non-stop at her (you guessed it) budding precocious personality. An anecdote – she now feeds their dog, Onyx, one Cheerio per Cheerio she gets in her mouth, in the most matter-of-fact, “of course I’m supposed to be doing this” way.

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This week, my darling, dearest Phoebe has been sick. She’s had a UTI and then a bad reaction to her antibiotic and spent last night meowing pathetically and in obvious pain and discomfort. It’s so hard to see her not feeling well – way harder than I would have imagined or remember (she’s only been sick like this once before). What am I going to be like when I have kids? Egad.