We observed Thanksgiving on Saturday, because for various reasons not everyone was able to make it on Thursday.
In the morning, Wayne and I took a long walk up through the tree farm – I went quite a ways farther up than I’d gone before. We took Walter, the dog, who posed for a picture, too.
Thanksgiving was a great feast in the tradition I’ve associated with the Brosing-Lecomte extended family since my own childhood in the early 1970s, when both families were based in rural San Mateo County south of San Francisco (which was truly rural at that time, and not the collection of high-tech-entrepreneurs’ mansions that it is these days).
Arthur did his small duty relative to the event, by roasting the turkey in the style he developed in Arcata in the 1970s too, using his self-designed rotisserie barbecuer.
There is no table at these gatherings – never has been one, because the number of people is too great. People stand or sit wherever, and eat.
Juli and Keith’s neighbor, who has horses, generously offered to let some the kids (and adults too) ride one of her horses. It was a first horse ride for some of the kids.
It was a good thanksgiving.
[daily log: walking, 5km]
Day: November 24, 2018
Caveat: Poem #846 “Nekkhamma”
ㅁ Moments of friendship, Unintended kindnesses, Slow entanglements.
– a pseudo-haiku.
