So much for my ambitious plans to exercise today. I failed to get in a walk this morning, and then it rained this afternoon. I should have at least taken a swim, but with the day’s relay races I didn’t work that in either. Phooey on me. I am aggravated with myself big time.
The other side of the coin is that I was about as reasonably sane as anyone ever is on Thanksgiving, so I had maybe a little less to atone for than I had at first feared.
Lunch was actually a brunch that I enjoyed with my mom at her retirement community. As you can see, it was rather monochromatic. The green bean casserole would have added some color, but I did not go there.
I’d have to say that the fish featured in the buffet ran away with the silver spoon–meaning that the smoked salmon and the basil crusted salmon was better than the thin slices of turkey breast, or anything else!
The dressing was just so-so–it was some sort of pear dressing that seemed rather
sweet. The cheese grits were not–that is not cheesy and not gritsy either, but the potatoes mashed with garlic were very good. Rounding out the plate was a yellow squash casserole.
In keeping with the pale mellow yellow theme, I finished the meal with a slice of sugar free apple pie, picking out the apples, and leaving the pallid crust on the plate. Again, the apples tasted sort of preternaturally sweet, and that was a bit off-putting.
We washed it all down with copious amounts of hot tea, which I very much enjoyed. But next year we will take our tea and our Thanksgiving Dinner elsewhere. It just didn’t eat or have the feel of a real Thanksgiving Dinner. Which is not completely bad in this instance, because sometimes the closer you get to a memory, the more you feel the loss.
The ordinariness of the meal may have been my biggest blessing of Thanksgiving 2010. It was nothing like the Thanksgivings our family has celebrated together in warmth and happiness, when the house smelled like turkey and dressing and love, and when the three roses now contained in a crystal bowl once bloomed at our table with vigorous joy and passion. I miss them all.
Of course, the gang was all present at Plymouth Rock in large part because three ships missed their mark and found the wrong continent whilst searching for India. So I thought it made sense tonight to dive into something spicy and more exotic than the pallid fare I consumed at lunch.
It was exactly what I wanted. Where has Tasty Bite been all of my life? The information provided on the package seems almost too good to be true.
Vegetarian, vegan, gluten free, no MSG, no preservatives, and it’s even Kosher, too! What’s not to love about Tasty Bite?
It also does not require refrigeration, so it is extremely portable. In fact, the package design boasts a graphic representation that is similar to the washing instructions found on the labels inside clothing that asks, “Where will you take your Tasty Bite?”
Gee, I don’t know, but I like their spirit. For me the question forces me to ponder another question: where will I go?
Much like Christopher Columbus, my journeys have taken me to places I never expected to find, and my life has not been about met expectations. I am okay with that though, because the flip side is a stunningly remarkable thing–discovery. If you always wind up exactly where you expected to be, I guess that is good enough, but for me, I will take discovery any day, because life is for learning.
Where ever I go, and where ever I do wind up, I am going to follow the package instructions. I will take myself a Tasty Bite of whatever I discover.