Wednesday, November 26, 2014

My Favorite Holiday

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday.  Except for cooking and entertaining, it asks nothing of us except to love one another.  I could list here all the things I am grateful for but it would be a cliché.  So instead, I offer you some of my favorite things...both big and small.  And this Thanksgiving, while we spend it with people we love, can we touch hands and not phones? 

Some of my favorite things:

My Kindle which is the repository for all the books that would have stolen space on my already overcrowded bookshelves.

The set of Italian cookware I bought piecemeal over a period of ten years.  They've served me well and were worth every penny.

Orchids.  They are graceful, lovely, last months and are inexpensive. 

The small basket hanging beside my front door.  Many a pair of glasses have been dropped in them.  The ones I lost in the couch at someone's house, and the ones that someone is coming to fetch because they lost them in my couch.

Tea.  With milk and one sugar.  Anyday.  Anytime.

Leopard print.  It's fun and it makes me smile.  Especially with a swipe of red lipstick. 

The Ballet.  I plan on seeing more of it. 

My car starter.  It came with the car and I couldn't say no.

My patchwork cut-off shorts.  I'll never wear them again.  But they tell me about the girl I used to be.  She looked great in them but she wasn't as smart as I am.

My pearl earrings.  Even though they're from my ex, I'll never forget that he pierced them through the ears of a little teddy bear as part of the gift.  It's ok.  The bear forgives him.

A sparkly Christmas card my grandparents gave me.  It had $50 in it and read, "Now you can start your dishes".

My mother's pink and yellow enamel bracelet.  It slid off her wrist and right onto mine one warm afternoon.  Summer doesn't begin until I dig it out.

My day job.  It pays the bills.  Grateful for but not a true favorite.  Enough said.

Bobbi Brown lip gloss in Kir Shimmer.  Without it, I'm nothing.
Ah friends, dear friends, as years go by and heads grow gray, how fast the guests do go.
Touch hands, touch hands with those that stay.
Strong hands to weak, old hands to young, around the Christmas board...touch hands.
The false forget, the foe forgive.  For every guest will go...
Forget!  Forgive!  For who may say that Christmas Day may ever come to host or guest again?
Touch hands!  Touch hands!
~ James Patrick Erdman

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