Monday, November 20, 2006


Still life with bouquet_Pierre Auguste Renoir

Every year when Thanksgiving comes around many things happen to me. Thanksgiving was always a time when no matter where I lived I was almost always able to make it home to spend the holiday with my family. Christmas and most of the other holidays are meant for the children and I hope they will be preserved and not be “Happy Holidayed” into oblivion. Thanksgiving takes on a much different meaning though because it takes quite the effort for people to get to their destinations from their homes that they have made away from their families. I know this because of the amount of people that use the trains to get where they are going during the week of this holiday.

Forget all the things that you have to complain about. Forget all the things that bother you at work and at home. Just go be with the people you care about and be thankful for the people that do care about you. Celebrate your Thanksgiving in your own tradition but just be thankful to be with those that you care about.

Once more, my now bewildered Dove

Once more, my now bewildered Dove
Bestirs her puzzled wings
Once more her mistress, on the deep
Her troubled question flings --

Thrice to the floating casement
The Patriarch's bird returned,
Courage! My brave Columbia!
There may yet be land

Emily Dickinson


Anonymous said...

I love this poem! I love Emily Dickinson! Happy Thanksgiving!

J_G said...

Thank you B-Hip. Emily Dickinson is one of my favorites too. When I put Emily Dickinson and Pierre- Auguste Renior together on a post I am truly sincere about my message. Happy Thanksgiving to you Mr Hippo and to all those that care about you.

SusieQ said...

This will be the first year that our whole family (22 including children) will enjoy the Thanksgiving feast at a local restaurant. It was my husband's suggestion. I took him up on the offer. We won't do this every year, but this year it is a welcome alternative to the usual family dinner at home. One daughter just had a baby. Another just started a full time job. Our son and his wife are super busy in their business. And I am not as young as I used to be. Thus the restaurant idea for this year. The thing that matters most is that we will be together.

But I love the smell of the kitchen at Thanksgiving. You can't beat the aroma combination of turkey roasting in the oven with its accompanying dressing, marshmellow topped sweet potatoes, fluffy mashed potatoes, rich giblet gravy, cranberry sauce, side dishes of vegetables, yeast rolls, and pecan and pumpkin pies. We have this every year and more.

Happy Thanksgiving to you, JG, and all your readers.

J_G said...

Gosh Susie, you make me want to start Thanksgiving early. Sweet potatoes and marshmellow ooooohhhh!

Looks like it's extra time on the workouts already.

Sometimes you need to do something a little different but like you said, at least you'll all be together.

Have a very nice Thanksgiving Susie!

Marie's Two Cents said...

You have a wonderful and safe Thanksgiving JG!!

J_G said...

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving Marie. I'm going to a friend's house this year and it should be very nice because I have so many very good friends.

L>T said...

Happy Thanksgiving j_g. from L>T

LJG aka Pennsylvania Independent said...

You have a great Thanksgiving also. Be safe out there. Hopefully I won't see Bigfoot on any of my travels either LOL.

skye said...

Renoir - nice touch, J_G.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and your family!

Enjoy this day :)

J_G said...

Blogger ate another one of my comments. Would you like a little gravy with that comment her blogger;-0

Anyway, I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving Skye. I had dinner with close friends and it was very nice.

Anonymous said...


Just dropped in to see how you were. This poem by E.D. is always on my mind in November as is the bleaker one by Frost, "My November Guest," below. Frost suffered from depression all his life, and I think that's the genesis of that poem. (see below)

The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry's cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.
The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I'll put a trinket on.


My November Guest
by: Robert Frost

My Sorrow, when she's here with me,
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
She walks the sodden pasture lane.

Her pleasure will not let me stay.
She talks and I am fain to list:
She's glad the birds are gone away,
She's glad her simple worsted grey
Is silver now with clinging mist.

The desolate, deserted trees,
The faded earth, the heavy sky,
The beauties she so truly sees,
She thinks I have no eye for these,
And vexes me for reason why.

Not yesterday I learned to know
The love of bare November days
Before the coming of the snow,
But it were vain to tell her so,
And they are better for her praise.

J_G said...

Something to consider Mrs. Green.

Autumn Daybreak

Cold wind of autumn, blowing loud
At dawn, a fortnight overdue,
Jostling the doors, and tearing through
My bedroom to rejoin the cloud,
I know—for I can hear the hiss
And scrape of leaves along the floor—
How may boughs, lashed bare by this,
Will rake the cluttered sky once more.
Tardy, and somewhat south of east,
The sun will rise at length, made known
More by the meagre light increased
Than by a disk in splendour shown;
When, having but to turn my head,
Through the stripped maple I shall see,
Bleak and remembered, patched with red,
The hill all summer hid from me.

Edna St. Vincent Millay

Marie's Two Cents said...


Sorry I havent been able to comment on my blog or yours and combat Lunatic above ^ but my arm is in a sling.

I'm sure Lunatic will get a thrill out of this, I was hanging Christmas lights on my house, slipped off the ladder, landed on my shoulder, wound up in the hospital, and have had my arm in a sling ever since.

Isnt broken SHOCKING, and all I can say is THANK GOD FOR MILK! I'm sure if I wasnt a big milk drinker it would be broken or out of place or something. It's just BADLY bruised.

Anyway my Holiday was a hoot, how was yours?

J_G said...

My Thankgiving was apparerntly a lot quieter than yours Marie. Gosh I hope you get well quickly. I think you may need to consult a lawyer about suing the manufacturer of those Christmas lights. Didn't they warn you about the dangers of putting them up at anytime in the intructions? ;-)

I'm just glad you're OK!

Anonymous said...


Edna St. Vincent Millay--one of my favorite poets! I love it.

Hey Marie!

I'm so sorry to hear about your accident! If I lived near you, I'd cook you a nice meal and send over some goodies too. Really. You poor kid. That sucks. Glad you have healthy bones, though.

I've been somewhat depressed, since one of my best and dearest friends just passed away (the Sat. after Thanksgiving). She was exceptional. Taught school, but taught the difficult kids--boys who were problem kids. Yes, she was tough, but she had a heart of pure gold. You know the type, the kind who has this outer exterior of being hard as nails, but inside she was a soft as a cream puff. Her students adored her. She made them learn despite their awful habits and rotten home lives. They learned.

It's heartbreaking to lose someone like that. Lukemia.

We've been friends since we were 14 and lived through those awful mixed-up adolescent years when we all felt unworthy of anything.

She made me laugh--she was funny as hell. She was an outdoors type, simple, no frills, no make-up,--jeans and hiking boot, and flannel shirts.

I can't believe she's gone.

Her name was Merrie.

Great name, eh. And she was full of life.


I read a poem at her memorial gathering tonight. WB Yeats' The Lake Isle of Innisfree.

Google it, if you don't already know it.

It'll break your heart.

J_G said...

So sorry to hear of your loss Mrs. Green. I keep having to remind myself that death is part of life. I too lost a close friend this past year and I read a poem at her service. "The Day is done" by Henry Wadsworth longfellow.

Your friend Merrie may be gone but her spirit lives on in those that she cared so much about.

The Lake Isle of Innisfree

I WILL arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honeybee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evenings full of the linnet's wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear the lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.

William Butler Yeats

Marie's Two Cents said...

JG and Mrs Green,

Thank's for the kind words. I will not look into suing the manufacturer of the Christmas light's JG, I dont want to add to the already cluttered court system lol.

I'm sorry for your loss Mrs Green