In the Slow Lane

Let 'em Eat Lasagna!

Thanksgiving!  And I am thankful.  Oh, yes, I'm thankful for shelter and warm clothing.  My food supply is plentiful and convenient.  I need fight no beasts from the door.  I carry no water, chop no wood, and have light at the flick of switch.


But there's less obvious gifts also.  In a fog this morning heading for the coffee pot, I spied on the counter a lovely little still life.  Two graceful, slim, dark bottles, one oil, the other viniger; a clear plastic jar filled with elegant shavings of mixed Italian cheeses; a lovely green stand-up pack of sunflower seeds.  Huh? 


Don't scoff.  This means my part of the family feast is merely a giant salad.  I'm thankful I raised a sensible daughter who said, "I'll make lasgna.  You bring salad."  


We're not Italian as far as we know and my "let 'em lasagna" attitude is really close to sacrilege in the slow lane.  Everybody knows it's turkey on Thanksgiving.


Yesterday, gathering the salad makings, I noticed this poor woman, probably my age and a bit er....stouter, trudging to her car, pushing a basket, literally overflowing,  OMG! think I.  She's gotta cook all that stuff!


Cooking aside, I'm thankful that I write whatever I please, whenever I please, no editor involved except the one in my head.  And folks, besides famly, actually read my stuff!  How great is that?  Thank you, whoever you are.   



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