We had our Thanksgiving dinner yesterday. It was only a small intimate gathering but it felt just right.I never got around to taking pictures, too bad.
My sister is here, and we were joined by Best Buddy Bev and our co-grandparents. The kids live too far away.
However, it gives me pleasure to know that my daughter is continuing the tradition to gather a number of friends on this weekend for lavish piles of home-made food. It is even nicer to see that the friends include her brother, who is developing his own reputation as a dynamite cook.
Thanksgiving has always meant a lot to me. It is an opportunity to honor the Devas, or whatever we want to call the Force that provides our sustenance. There was no home-grown protein this year, but all vegetable matter on the table came from the land. OK, I bought the cranberries.
Margreet made Dutch-style apple pie with apples from one of the volunteer trees. The one shown here was the one she made by way of practice, the official one looked even better.
For the first time ever I managed to grow decent leeks and celery. They, along with carrots, were honored in a simple, delicious vegetable soup with broth made from turkey necks and just a bit of rice vermicelli. Good broth as shown below in its chilled state is one of my favorite kitchen ingredients.
A home-made loaf was sacrificed for stuffing, there was pureed squash, roasted root mix (baby onions, potatoes, beets), delicate mesclun salad, cranberry sauce, and the tops of the Brussels sprouts plants.
I could have made more side dishes, but we had to leave room for the pie, and none of the guests are big eaters.
Apart from being allowed to live in health in paradise I am grateful for a spouse of 45 years, for a sister who spends the money to come here, for family acquired through the next generation, and for a good friend close by who is there when we need her, and vice versa.
Life here is simple with little drama beyond the daily challenges of weather and garden pests. It might bring a more demanding soul to tears of boredom, but I like it fine. My son accuses me of having a bovine quality. Quite. Taurus rising.
As an internet connection from a garden group says: Bless Up!