cozy time of year
tea kettle whistling
and kitties curled on the couch
leaves dancing on the winds in the woods
and rain pattering on the windows
warm fire in the woodstove
smell of apples
and a pie baking in the oven
full of gratitude
for rain and dancing leaves
for kitties and warmth and pie
for family and love
and you
-Karen Molenaar Terrell
(Autumn photos by Karen Molenaar Terrell.)
Love Is Still Here
The fourth Thanksgiving
without Moz at our table,
the first without Dad and
the first without a turkey –
we went vegan this year.
We forged ahead, making
it up as we went – creating
new traditions: a yellow
and red pepper dish; a bowl
of mushrooms sauteed
in olive oil – which we used
as our gravy on the mashed
potatoes; Broccoli steamed
to a brilliant green; and orange
squash made for a colorful plate.
I was yearning for something
old to bring to the feast –
something from the past –
and remembered Aunt Junie’s
dishes with the blue flowers
around the outside. Scott
reached up and pulled them
from the top shelf for me
and put them on the table.
Much looks different this year.
But this hasn’t changed:
Love is still here.
-Karen Molenaar Terrell
The day after the feast –
everyone’s gone now –
on the way back to their homes
and here we are –
left with a turkey carcass,
empty pie plates, the energy
sucked out the front door
with a hug and a wave
and a smile. It’s still and quiet.
The cat has curled up in
the newly-emptied comfy
chair – still warm from the last
human to sit in it. The dog
is stretched out on the sofa.
They look drowsy and content.
I have a sudden memory of my
mother standing at the door
of the old homestead as we
drove away those past
Thanksgivings – her eyes
straining for a last glimpse
of us as we turned onto the
highway. I understand now.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell
I am grateful for family and friends;
a home full of love,
and memories without end;
Clara Kitty, Sparky, and Superdog Sam;
and the challenges
that have helped make me who I am;
clothing and shoes;
a fire in the stove;
the times I win and the times I lose;
potatoes and pies;
otters, deer
and butter-dragonflies;
picas and marmots;
university and public school;
cameras and words
and all the other tools
we have for sharing the
world’s beauty and joy
with each other;
baby animals and young
people and older people;
and laughter;
people with a sense of humor;
and the rainbow that comes after;
people who wave from the train;
people who smile back;
mountains to climb
and trails to backpack;
food in the pantry; laptops,
cellphones, the internet;
water, toilets, electricity;
and books newly-met;
blue skies, puffy clouds,
rainbows, sunrises and sunsets;
music; flowers; malty autumn
leaves and sparkly snow;
the intuition that tells me
which way to go;
the First Amendment
and Democracy;
courage, honesty, and generosity;
walks along the briny bay;
and waking every morning
to a fresh day;
Truth; Life, and Love never-ending,
always new;
and I am really grateful to know YOU.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell
Happy Thanksgiving!
(Photos by Karen Molenaar Terrell)
Warmth and peace, gentle
laughter and playful exchanges
father mother son daughter
niece nephew brother sister
friend grandpa nestled around
the dining room table in
a cozy glow of love and
grandmozzy’s blue sweater
on the back of a chair adding
to the sweetness of this
Thanksgiving.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell
First, I will don my way cool apron that my friend from Canada sent me, and that has the Canadian word “Eh?” written on it in really flamboyant letters. Of course, putting on the apron isn’t going to actually keep me from having flour all over me by the end of my culinary adventure – but I think I look sort of cute in it. And that’s the important thing.
Next I will haul the turkey out of the fridge, where it’s been thawing since Sunday. I will dice home-grown onion and garlic, apples from our orchard (yes, apples – using apples in turkey stuffing is a Karen tradition – because I, traditionally and invariably, FORGET TO BUY CELERY!!! and then I find myself scrambling around the kitchen, looking for something crunchy I can throw in the dressing… and… yeah… well… apples …and, true to tradition, I just realized that I, once again, FORGOT THE CELERY!!!), and toasted Dave’s Killer Whole Grain Bread (the bread will be toasted, not Dave). I’ll sprinkle sage and rosemary over everything that’s within arm’s reach (this includes the dog, the cats, and the sons). Then I will yank out the turkey’s innerds, and replace it with toasted Dave, and put the whole shebang in a pre-heated 325 degree oven.
Pie-making comes next. I love making pies. There’s something kind of comforting about pie-making. I especially love making pies when there’s rain pounding against the windows, and a fire in the woodstove – the rain adds a certain ambiance, and it looks like we might be getting a lot of ambiance today. I’ll combine the flour (2 cups), and butter (2 tbs, plus 2/3 cup) and water (6 tbs) in a bowl, and then grab half of it and roll it out on a floured cutting board, and lay it in the bottom of my glass pie plate. The bottom crust will be a picture of perfection – it will be seamless and smooth. Next, I’ll put the frozen blackberries that I picked last summer into the pie shell. I’ll add 4 or 5 tbs of flour, and 6 tbs of sugar, and loosely mix the pie’s filling. Now it’s time to roll out the top crust and place it on top of the pie. The top crust is the crust that everyone will see. It will have holes and tears in it. That is another Karen tradition. Once I’ve got my holey crust attached to the pie, I’ll lightly sprinkle sugar over the top, to make the pie look sort of sparkly when it’s done.
By the time we sit down for our feast, our plates will be full of turkey, stuffing, mashed sweet potatoes with butter and cinnamon, and cranberry sauce, and we’ll be half-way through dinner before someone – probably one of the sons – will ask me about the dinner rolls. And they will either be burning in the oven, or still sitting in the cupboard. It is another Karen tradition.
May your holidays be filled with a feast of love and laughter. And don’t forget the dinner rolls.
– Excerpt from The Madcap Christian Scientist’s Christmas Book
I was hoping I’d find some sunflowers to bring into our home for Thanksgiving – there’s something so cheery and wholesome about sunflowers – they instantly light up a room with their sunshiney faces. But, alas, there were no sunflowers to be found in any of the local supermarkets, and my last sunflowers had died off in the freeze a week ago.
Or so I thought…
A few weeks ago I’d leaned a sunflower stalk that had blown down in the wind against the corner of our house. I’d clipped off the sunflowers that were in bloom and put them in a vase in the breakfast nook – but had tossed the flowers out a week ago when they died.
So today, after I gave up on finding sunflowers in a store, I was wandering around the yard looking for something – anything – that might still be flowering that I could bring into the house for Thanksgiving. And as I walked past the sunflower stalk I’d leaned against the house weeks ago I saw there was one little sunflower beaming its happy little face up at me!
It’s amazing how much joy it gave me to find that little sunflower waiting for me right there – at the corner of our house! She’s now shining her golden beauty from the windowsill in my kitchen.
I got a sunflower for Thanksgiving, after all!
A comforting ritual – baking
the annual Thanksgiving pies
connects me to Thanksgivings
past – decades of home and love,
laughter, food, memories of those
who’ve newly-arrived, and those
departed. This year will be
the first Thanksgiving without
Moz. And as I pour blackberries
into the pie I realize these berries
were ones I picked the summer
after she passed, and I wonder
if I might have a left-over bag
of blackberries I picked during
the summer before – when Moz
was still moving amongst us.
I go to the freezer in the garage
and root amongst the frozen bags,
digging, searching – and there!
I find a bag of berries marked
2016! And now a part of the world
that still held Moz in it is in
this year’s Thanksgiving pie.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell
I know these moments don’t sound like big deals in the whole scheme of things – but – they mean something to me.
Today I went into the Safeway in Anacortes to get a mocha at the Starbucks there. After I got in the store I thought I should get some flour for pie-making. On the way to the flour I thought this might be a good time to get the cranberry sauce, too. Also dinner rolls. And sweet potatoes. Of course I hadn’t picked up a basket on my way in, because I thought I was just going to get a mocha, right? – so now I’m standing in a long Thanksgiving grocery-shopping line with my arms full. My arms are starting to get tired. Suddenly this young man appears – he doesn’t work at Safeway, he’s just another customer like myself – and he says, “I thought maybe you could use a basket” and hands me a basket to put all my stuff in. And I thank him profusely and take the basket and he smiles and goes on his way. People going out of their way to be kind to other people just tickles me. 
🙂 And, maybe it’s my imagination, but it seems like people have been making more of an effort to show kindness in the last couple weeks.
So when I’d come into Safeway there was a musician playing a banjo out front and I’d planned on giving him a tip – but now I saw him packing up – so before I bought my mocha I went out to put a buck in his banjo case – and he smiled and thanked me and I asked him if he’d like a coffee – and he said no, he was fine, but thanked me for the offer, and wished me a happy Thanksgiving.
I went back in the store to get my mocha – the original reason I’d come to Safeway in the first place – and the coffee machine wasn’t working. But it didn’t matter! I was meant to go in there today. 🙂
On the way back from Anacortes I suddenly got it in my noggin to stop off at the dike for a quick walk. There was only one other car there – a man and his corgi were about ten yards ahead of me on the trail. As soon as I stepped onto the path the corgi turned around and started running back to me – a big friendly grin on his face – like I was an old friend and he was just so happy to see me! So I reached out and petted him and his human called him back and he took one last look at me and then went back to his human and they went around a bend in the path. I walked along a little longer, and suddenly the dog came racing around the bend and ran back to me again – just had to give me one more greeting. I love happy dogs who see a new friend in every person they encounter.
And then that song came into my head – “My life flows on in endless song, above earth’s lamentation…” and I was just filled with such joy to be alive.
That is all. Carry on then…
Karen
Adventures of the Madcap Christian Scientist 