I tend to think that people fit into nice, neat categories. Whenever there’s a differentiation of traits, I attempt to determine my fit within the specified groupings. Whether it’s the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator where I’m an INTP, or the Chinese Zodiac where I’m a Rabbit, or the other Zodiac where I’m a Sagittarius, or the four elements where I’m obviously an Air element, or politics where I’m probably a progressive. Or Hogwarts, where I’m kind of a Ravenclaw but settled for the more relaxed life of a Hufflepuff.
Even being from New England, I associate with its colonial, doggedly independent, and zealot-filled past. Speaking of which, Thanksgiving is soon upon us, a time when we celebrate a bunch of true-believers that left everything behind in order to worship the Almighty in their own way. A group so determined and trusting in God, that they arrived woefully unprepared for what was to come. This was not a hearty band of survivalists, but regular folk simply expecting things to work out for the best.
I think half died soon after arriving and the other half survived thanks to a native that returned to his homeland after being forcibly taken to England. Imagine arriving in the New World and some dude walks outta the woods speaking English and shows you how to procure food. And, there just happens to be an abandoned village in which you can live (the previous inhabitants died of disease). WTF?! That’s Providence for you (not the city, but God’s protective care). Interestingly though, Providence, Rhode Island was a city founded by an exile because the Puritans of Massachusetts were too puritanical.
The cook in my house isn’t a fan of turkey so we’re having roast-chicken and root-vegetables (carrot, corn, and waxy potato) instead. We’ll probably have some homemade cranberry sauce, stuffing, butternut squash, and of course pies. Yes, many mini-pies, I believe we’re scheduled for apple, blueberry, strawberry, and toffee-pecan. I like this time of year. I’ve been listening to my Christmas-music playlist since mid-October.
I’ve noticed that I always write the strangest, most uncharacteristic things on Saturdays. It’s been happening since I started writing this blog many years ago. I don’t know what it is about Saturdays. My schedule isn’t really affected by the weekends, I’m just overtaken by a different muse. Well, here’s to Saturn’s day, a merry god ruling over a golden age of peace and effortless prosperity. And here’s to the week’s end when the cycle is soon to begin again — yet for now we rest.