How about a weekend of gratitude? On Thanksgiving morning, I was particularly grateful for the rising temperatures in Seattle: the snow was melting, from my windows I could see that more bodies were circulating on foot or in car, and going outside to empty the very full compost bin began to sound like a remote possibility again.
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I was grateful I had the foresight to reduce five heads of cauliflower to roasted goodness one day in advance of their transformation into soup.
My other Thanksgiving hosting duties included Boursin smashed potatoes, appetizers, and setting the table. This year I selected my parents’ wedding set of Noritake Marguerite to use at dinner, supplemented by the old faithful green daisy chain Cornelle which I also inherited when my parents down-sized residence.
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I needed a plate medley this year, as I hosted 14 guests. Well to be more accurate, there were 13 eaters; I always set one extra place at my Thanksgiving table to honor and represent those loved ones who are absent. This year, I remember with gratitude and love my maternal grandmother who passed away in February. I seated her in that extra seat; and I know that several of my guests were imagining their own recently lost loved ones as occupying that empty seat as well.
I was then very grateful for breakfast.