Yes, I'm still here

I can't tell you how hard I am trying to not complain about writing. Like I have any thing to complain about! If I want to quit this, I should just quit right? But this is what babies like me do, right? That's why we need trainers? I mean other people need trainers. I don't believe I could afford one, nor would I  probably do it if I could. Not that it's a bad thing at all. There's just something about it that doesn't quite work with my personality. Obstinate and sensitive to criticism are just some of the qualities that cause something like a trainer to backfire on me. 

Today was a brisk, wintry day, with a cold blue cloudless sky and a icy wind. It was beautiful, and I went for a quick hike just to get outside and sort my thoughts. Are you thinking about Thanksgiving? I'm trying to sort it all out in my head. I have a party of possibly 16 at my table, and though I'm excited about it, it does take some preparation and thought. I'm going simple and basic, as I usually do, but it's still a few people to feed. 

And really, it's not the food that really causes any anxiety for people before a dinner or party. It's the performance of it. The people of it. The timing of it. The uncertainty of it. It's in the future: will everything come together? Well, you don't really know do you? Instead of worrying too much about what I will make (which, let's face it, I will obsess about but hopefully in a healthy way) I try to instead focus on how nice it will be, and how (barring a true disaster of some sort) things will be just fine. If the turkey is dry or the pie gets burnt (those things won't happen, of course, but just as an example (ha!)) nothing is going to happen really. It's amazing that only at the age of forty-two am I able to quell my anxiety. And I still don't do it too well.

So, Thanksgiving talk aside, what did I eat today? It was another early morning that found my son helping me make black currant muffins at 6:20 a.m. I had toast with yogurt with a bowl of sauerkraut again for lunch. And dinner was a lovely hash of celery root, apples and onions with some pork chops on top. I had my helper for dinner as well; at 4 years old he really helps out. His new favorite thing is being a waiter and serving the table, which quite honestly is very scary if you are hungry for your meal. It can be a wobbly affair. Tonight, after we had all been served, he sat in his seat and gnawed on not one but two pork chop bones, which gave me deep motherly satisfaction.