Photo by Zeetz Jones

Entire Thanksgiving dinner cooked alone three days after the main event.
I always had my own sense of timing.  And the blog I wrote on Saturday inspired me to try.
What if I could make an entire Thanksgiving dinner by myself?

Packing my freezer with Thanksgiving dinners in small containers to delight me in the coming months.
I followed possibility and a spirit of adventure as I rekindled all my holiday traditions just for me.

Echoes of the past rang through the day. I reached out to connect to my children and tell them of my adventure and reminisce about the past. I called my mother with my usual questions about how to know when the bird is done.  Timing of the meal is always tricky.  Thermometer said she was done, but when I cut into her, she was not done.  Back to the oven.

Working that hard at only one thing reminds me how good it feels to be engaged creating something tangible. It's fulfilling to see the fruits of your labor so quickly. It seemed impossible, but by taking one small step and then another, I found myself at the end. Just like my ultramarathons.  A priceless remembering that I already know how to do this.  I just forgot the power of focusing on only one thing and stepping until I get there.

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Writing about what Thanksgiving used to be like.  Since there is a pandemic many of us had to celebrate differently.  Memories of what was and may be again.  Memories of what was and will never be again because we have lost the loved ones.  And if there is space imagining a way forward.

Alone, but not alone.
Three adorable children grace my Thanksgiving memories.
Thanksgiving was a time to cook together.  We made a day of it in the kitchen. Everyone had two dishes to prepare that day.  We wheeled the television into the kitchen.  Entertained by our Thanksgiving classic, "The Goonies."  How did it get to be our Thanksgiving choice?  I think it was back when we lived in Oak Ridge, Tennessee.  It must have been on television during the preparations one year and it was perfect.  We had so much fun.  "Hey you g-u-y-s....."  Miles, my youngest, making the "butt rolls"... aptly named because they look like gigantic buttocks. Samantha making the soon-to-be mashed potatoes.  Jeremy, now Jeremiah, helping me prepare the turkey and working his magic with beautiful vegetables.  Deviled eggs, my favorite, rarely made, as I am the only one who eats them. Shrimp cocktail and raspberry jello, traditional fare at my mother's table, continued here as beloved favorites. Peas and another vegetable, carrots or yams. Stove Top stuffing because we like it better than homemade stuffing. None of us are fond of "wet bread"....  Samantha and I working on the pies... Chocolate and pumpkin.  In later years, she found the best pumpkin pie recipe and was requested to make that pie for birthdays as well.

After having so much joy in everyone being together to cook, Thanksgiving alone seems daunting. And yet there are so many possibilities, so many ways to fill my kitchen with the joy of connection.  I just need to think outside the box about who to invite and be brave about opening my home and expanding my circle in way that is comfortable.  As comfortable as possible for someone who is not overly fond of change.

Photo by Elisa Stone on Unsplash

Gratitude is a bird soaring above the mundane.
A bald eagle perhaps..
Using keen sight to recognize gifts easily missed.
Each breath is a gift. Each flower, cactus, bunny. Each neighbor passing.

Gratitude.  Of course this post must be about gratitude as we give thanks today in the United States. I hope my dear friends in other countries will accept my thanks on this day for your warm friendship.  You make my life better.

What aspect of gratitude?  That I am still in business? That I am still connected to people here who make my life better? That I have prospects?  That my children are thriving and welcomed me warmly? That I have lived largely unscathed through a pandemic so far? Grateful for my readers, my clients, my friends, my family.  Grateful for my teachers and fellow students who helped train me in my craft and pushed me to excel and find the limit of my natural talent.  To apply discipline to move beyond talent into skill. I can learn only so much on my own. 

I am especially grateful for those of you who join me each week to discuss fun and thought-provoking topics in one of my Coffee calls. Your company has buoyed me up in this time of sheltering alone. Being connected is a precious gift.  Cheers!

Photo by Maria Lupan on Unsplash

The ripples of my actions to be of service, to connect, are growing. Instead of attenuating, they amplify.  Bouncing off others, my ideas of connection catch on and spread.  Many variants of my "Coffee with Michelle" have been started by others within my circles of influence.  I start to see that I can help people who live in places outside of Tucson, Arizona to feel better. 

I am blazing new ground here. I feel the storm coming as the ripples become bigger and bigger. They grow into large waves. It's an uncomfortable place for me. And it is necessary to stand in the storm.  To not shrink back from the waves or to hide from connection.  My instinct is to run, to shelter inside a dark cave.  This is the lull before the storm when I gather myself for the plunge, the leap off a cliff.  Into the heart of the storm.  I take with me belief that I am strong enough for this.

My thanks to my friend Gail for letting me know that the blog before last felt like a cliff-hanger. When I turned my observing eye towards myself, I truly saw myself...  the effect of my efforts.  So, is it working yet?  Yes, it is.

I love to hear from you. Please reply in the comments or by email. As you can see, you affect my work and I do it with you.

Photo by Wesley Tingey on Unsplash

Walled off. No entrance. Keep out!
Connection severed.
Telephone line has gone dead.

Happy days looking forward to our talks gone.

Photo by Johnny Cohen on Unsplash

How can we know when the new things we are trying are working?

What are the signs?

Can you see the small ripples created by your actions?

It's time to look... to really see the effects.

Every action creates a ripple.... for good or bad.

Photo by Jimmy Conover on Unsplash

Time to think. Time to dream. Time to observe.
Thoughts lazily drift by as I drive.  The scenery changes. I see new sights. 

Mt. Shasta, in its snow-capped finest.
Dried and dead orchards. Stinking air.
Factory farming and ranching. Signs about needing water to farm.

Why does a man use up everything around him?  Until the land sinks....

Water rights in the West is a big deal.  And it will just get bigger as the earth warms.
Time to watch Cadillac Desert again...
It's time to think bigger. To be bold. To think of the future of our home.

Photo by James Kern on Unsplash

Nourishing our bodies nourishes our mind and spirit as well.
All interconnected, the body fuels the mind and calms or invigorates the spirit.
"You are what you eat" is more than an adage. It is literally true.

This week I have been cooking for my grown children during a visit to the West coast.
Adding love into everything I prepare as well as fresh, organic vegetables and meat.
I created soups and meals to freeze so all three households will have a small store of mother-created fuel.

Living alone has rusted my cooking skills. I found it was an effort to create the recipes and execute my craft.
A labor of love and my wish for the good health and happiness of my children and soon-to-be-born first grandchild.
Our time sheltering during the COVID-19 pandemic has helped me brush off the cobwebs of disuse and rediscover the joy of creating delicious, nourishing meals.

Healthy food is more important than ever as winter approaches.
What would you like to prepare and freeze for the coming months?

Photo by Erik Mclean on Unsplash

Out here at the edge, things are unstable, shifting.
You could fall off the edge anytime.
One minute you have solid footing
And the next, you are tumbling through the air
Wondering where you will land.

Few things are certain in life.
We lull ourselves into believing the world is "like this."
It provides us a setting for our story.  A backdrop.
Based on our observations, we create a framework around which we can mold our expectations.

Our world construction is paper mache, at best.
A flimsy, airy thing easily blown about by the wind.
Act Two, Scene One - reset the stage.

To dance along the edge, you must be quick-stepping.
You must be willing to get it wrong and step off into the void...
Trusting that you can recover from any injury sustained during your fall.
And be wiser for it.  And proud... because you took action..
Even if it might not work.

Photo by Samur Isma on Unsplash

If you give it all away, you are left with nothing.
When considering being generous, it is easy to forget being generous with yourself.
Giving yourself the benefit of the doubt.

Consider holding some resources back for yourself.
Especially when your focus is on others.
Reciprocity... a free-flowing give and take.. benefits us all

The give and take must balance out. 
It is far too easy these days to become drained.
To let your bucket become empty.  Once empty, how can you go on?