Feeling the Thankfulness in Thanksgiving - or Cream and Corn and Caribous It is late, and I lay here after a Netflix marathon of the Gilmore Girls, and instead of sleeping I am forcing myself to stay awake because something smells like burning wood-chips. In my forced awakeness, I mulled over this odd day because I am too tired to sniff out the entire house and thinking it might be something outside. Maybe a skunk and this is what frozen skunk aroma smells like in the winter. Tis the season as we know for long lines in grocery stores, and today I just needed a few things. You know that brain fuzz moment when you are next in line and you remember you forgot something. Well, Thanksgiving is about being thankful, and our traditional meal, and the indians had corn for Thanksgiving. Well, actually, they brought it as their dish for the Pilgrims. I needed corn. So I plopped my basket down and asked the lady in front of me if she would watch my basket. People in grocery stores are so wonderfully accommodating. She acted like she would guard it as if it was Windsor Castle, and she was a dutiful guard. I dashed off and the corn aisle had been moved. No ID hanging sign did my eyeballs scan that said THIS IS THE VEGETABLE AISLE. But, I did get back to the aisle while it was my turn to check out and saw a MANAGER badge, and breathlessly said I cant find the corn. He said it was in the WHATEVER section, and I said that is like telling me Alaska is where you find the Caribou. He sent someone to get the corn for me. If you sound like a nut, people treat you accordingly. Settling into the evening, and still being in my very thankful mode, I decided to call an old friend who lives in Buffalo to see if she might be coming in anytime soon on a wave of water on a raft or rooftop. They lived on high ground, so no incoming visit soon, and I am thankful they are not part of the closest thing to Noahs great flood. But now, I need sleep, and I still smell wood chips. I have decided it must be the new face corrector cream I have on. My face is not burning, but decidedly I smell like a burning woodchip pile. I have figured my way out of forced sleep deprivation and will probably dream about Caribou finding corn in flooded fields. Diane Christin Zenchenko Esser c2014 Watch for my book SHORT AND SWEET ON THIS AND THAT coming out Spring 2015
Posted on: Thu, 27 Nov 2014 01:47:29 +0000
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