Feast on Thankfulness

by Michele Oksen

 Don't be a turkey. Look around. Breathe it in. This is where the heavens have kissed the earth.

Once you start, it's easy to notice things to be thankful for in these Santa Lucia Mountains and all along our Pacific coastland. And as luck would have it, November is the ideal time of year to focus on thankfulness.

November is when the volume of life begins to turn down.  After an uproarious summer and before the whispers of winter there's this pleasant hum of autumn activity. It's when we attend to the business of preserving that which we have harvested. Food preparation for future consumption, with family and friends, is so enjoyable. It's a great opportunity to offer thanks and celebrate.

At my house it's apples and walnuts. We crack walnut shells with hammers and the nuts, then we divide among the partiers. Leftover shells are generally kindling – or tiny boats if you can manage to save half shells intact. (For boats, you also need a wad of chewed gum, a toothpick stuck in the gum, a piece of paper on the toothpick for a sail, and a water trough, tub, or stream.) I like it when the meats of the walnuts are also in halves. There's a fine art to smacking the nut just hard enough, in just the right spot, to achieve this. If you're too heavy handed, you'll end up with mashed nuts in the freezer jar – and no water vessels.

While mulled cider warms your insides it's also fun to make applesauce. Is there a worm in that apple? No worries. Cut it out. Any bruises, blemishes, some of the skin, and the cores are just what the chickens are waiting for. A worm or two is always a welcomed treat to "the girls." They love organic produce. To a hen, good grub really is a grub.

When the preserves are put up – it's time to feast. Step outside into falling leaves. Smell the scent of smoke from warming fires mingled with fragrant damp earth. Feel the embrace of contentment, comfort, and overwhelming thankfulness. It's delicious. Take big bites. Have a second helping.

Grandpa Red, Mom and Dad, Mother Earth, and the Great Spirit – thank you for this peaceful place to hang my hat and write my stories.

Here's to a grand month of giving thanks! Gooble, gooble.

Photo by Lindy Swanson Pedotti