Saturday Stirrings

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.


Turkey Time

The Pilgrims left the confines of their modern society for the vast undeveloped wilderness of the American continent. They felt so constricted by existing infrastructure that they rejected it wholeheartedly, risking life and limb to settle in unknown territory. They had only their faith in the Almighty Creator to see them through, and planned accordingly.

Following a rough voyage, what awaited was a bitter cold landscape. Half perished as their hope expired. But the rest saw prayers answered. Empty villages still stocked with food stood before them. Non-existent natives showed no hostility as they were already ravaged by disease brought by earlier explorers.

And what’s this, an English-speaking native able to explain the methods of survival to such an unprepared lot? Huh?! How?! With God all things are possible. Though their ignorance in worldly ways knew no bounds, these pilgrims knew spirit as the foundation of life, ever trusting in an underlying goodness to provide for their needs.

But of course, like a great feast after the first few bites looks less sumptuous and more a mess, so too did the narrative begin to get a bit messy. But overall, life in Massachusetts flourished following the initial settlement. Through their recklessness, these people proved life’s benevolent design.

Could all this be coincidence? Mere luck? ‘Twas not survival of the fittest but of those most faithful. Who would dare leave civilized life behind in favor of the untamed wilds? It was the ultimate expression of faith — God protect and nourish us, lest we die. And so He did — providing proof of providence.

We therefore celebrate this season, giving thanks to the Almighty for the nourishment He provides to those trusting in His goodness. We set aside this time as a reminder that our path is only limited by our faith. We stuff ourselves with unyielding hope smothered in cheer. We surround ourselves with love, giving as we have been given.

Thanks for Nothing

Last Thanksgiving I accidentally stabbed my thumb with a large kitchen knife while putting it away. It was a deep cut and there’s a relatively large scar and a permanent loss of sensation from the scar to the tip of the thumb, must have severed a nerve.

That was last Thanksgiving, this Thanksgiving I’m writing by candlelight, alone in a cold electricity-free house. I’m dressed in three to four layers, so not uncomfortable — plus I ran a small propane heater earlier.

But no mashed potatoes with seasoned poultry, no homemade cranberry sauce with a hint of spice, no homemade blueberry pie, no homemade apple pie, nope none of it. It’s a frivolous complaint of course, but geez what’s up with Thanksgiving.

I don’t think I’ll be looking forward to next year’s. Maybe I’ll sneak attack and celebrate early. Even more frustrating, the electricity blipped on for a few minutes at three different times today — gets your hopes up, then serves up a whole lotta nothing pie.

[Update: the electricity is finally on and house is warmer, but too late for dinner and now spending the night as a party of one.]