Monday Gratitude

Counting today, there are only 11 days until Thanksgiving.

Merry Christmas.

We have had temps in the teens and 20’s with a full blanket of snow on the ground for over a week.

The winter weather makes it easy to forget about Thanksgiving and move right into Christmas. Even if we’re able to ignore the wreaths that went up in stores promptly after school started in September, it’s tempting to bypass this one day we devote to gratitude.

I’ve started Christmas shopping, recording Hallmark movies and making lists. I love the sparkly, glittering decorations in my town and in the stores just as much as the next girl. Yet, I’m taking the time to slow my roll and literally count my blessings. When I struggled to clear my mind to sleep the other night, I started thanking God for blessings one by one. Gratitude worked better than melatonin.

I wish you peace in the remaining days until we celebrate God’s good gifts with food, friends, family and football. And may that peace reign in your life throughout the extensive birthday party preparations for the Prince of Peace Himself.

And let the peace that comes from Christ rule in your hearts. For as members of one body you are called to live in peace. And always be thankful.

Colossians 3:15 NLT

Convenience Reigns King in our Modern Times

A couple years ago I was telling my kids how sad I was that Wegmans closed the W-Kids play center at the front of our local Wegmans.My kids laughed and said, “You never let us go in there! We were always with you!”

True.

I loved shopping with my babies in strollers and eventually, loved shopping with my school-aged kids just the same.

Stopping in for a few groceries after a Saturday ball game was fun.

But back to the W-Kids.

When they first deconstructed the kids room, I figured that the majority of parents were already connected to daycare all week and either wanted to keep their kids with them on the weekends or shopped after work while the kids were still at daycare. Either way, if the demand existed, Wegmans would have kept it.

Next, self-check-out stations appeared.

Then, the majority of the W-Kids space became housing for mountains of pre-packaged Insta Cart groceries🛒.Shelves and refrigeration units now line the former W-Kids area filled with already-pulled groceries for pick up, or for the driver delivering the groceries to people’s homes. My friend recently sent me $10 off my first Insta Cart purchase. I keep wanting to try it but haven’t. I’m not opposed to my groceries being delivered, but I happen to not hate grocery shopping.

Then again, it hasn’t started snowing yet. I might just jump on that Insta Cart wagon on a frigid Sunday in January when I really want warm cookies baking in the oven but I’m missing a few ingredients (& while I’m at it, order all my groceries for the week…).

 

Ordinary? No, it’s Extraordinary…Peanuts in the Shell!

Every now and then, the little things I see or use every day suddenly appear unique and amazing. Today, it’s peanuts in the shell (or, “out” of the shell for eating!).Not that I don’t love peanuts out of a jar.Or out of a can.But there is something unique about cracking the peanut out of the shell.

I’ve never eaten a burger at Five Guys but I have certainly feasted on their peanuts in the shell. And, what’s more fun than eating peanuts at a baseball game?Staring at one peanut…after I’ve eaten a thousand over the years…got me thinking about how exactly they grow. If you click on this photo, you can learn a bit more about their growth process.Although it was interesting, I’m going to give my perpetual-student mind a break and merely enjoy how cool these little things are. Appreciating something so ordinary in our everyday cuisine is really quite extraordinary.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ordinary? Nope, it’s Extraordinary…The Egg

Every now and then, the little things I pass by as “ordinary” suddenly appear unique and amazing. Today, it’s the egg.

Take 60 seconds and really think about the egg! Who thought to take the egg from the chicken, crack it open and decide to eat it? According to Incredibleegg.org, Europe had domesticated hens back in 600 BC. There are some very interesting factoids on that site, you might want to check it out!

Who first decided the egg might be good by tossing the whole thing, shell and all, in boiling water to make a soft boiled egg?How did a fried egg sandwich become so popular at restaurants? Who decided to crack open the egg and pour it onto a flat skillet? How about the hard boiled egg? Used now in cobb salad, deviled eggs, egg salad, radiant Easter baskets and just for sheer enjoyment!Eggs are now even used in beauty treatments!

Enjoying the EGGstraordinary in the ordinary today! 🙂

I Can’t Have a Relationship With My Turkey

I live in a suburb that is home to several beautiful farms. Recently, I saw two different signs offering turkeys for sale for Thanksgiving. I pulled over to take photos of both signs so I could call the numbers in the next few weeks to place an order.

I thought it would be neat to tell everyone at Thanksgiving that they were enjoying a healthy, no-hormone-injected, no-inhumane-treatment-turkey from the local farm.

Then, at the second farm, I looked to my right to see the other sign that said “choose your turkey”. There in the cutest little coop were several, beautiful white turkeys clucking around with their fellow feathered friends and family members. The customer could select their turkey, visit it regularly, watching it grow plump over the next few weeks.I stared at them. They were adorable! I suddenly thought about how the kids would name the horses or cows down the street when they were little. I didn’t have the heart to tell them back then that those cows we were visiting would end up in someone’s freezer by fall.

Not to sound like a Tyrannosaurus Rex, but I’m a meat-eater. I love a good roast, pulled pork and definitely a Thanksgiving turkey with plenty of gravy. However, I don’t think my enjoyment would be the same if I visited my selection for a month before picking him up headless.A few years ago, one of our 4H Moms had us over to plan out the year of crafts for our daughters. About an hour into the meeting, her daughter got up and said, “I’ll be right back, I need to go feed him.” I inquired about who she was feeding. Mom explained that every year her daughter independently purchased a small steer. She fed it daily and cared for it, eventually selling it the following year at fair.

When the girl came back into the house, I asked if she ever got attached and felt bad turning it over for slaughter. She shrugged saying, “Nope. I get paid $1300 at fair. I’m saving for college.”

While some may not get attached, I fear I might. Knowing me, I might actually name the bird during a visit. Then, I’m likely to share with the family that our meat was once “Bob” and we are eating him. My kids might get a chuckle, but I may have trouble digesting.

I momentarily felt conflicted about the whole turkey situation, but it does not make me consider being a vegetarian. I’m looking forward to the cherished meal.  I have to go order my turkey now. But, I’ll let the farmer choose one for me.