Thanksgiving. Giving Thanks. Part II

Now picking up somewhere from Part I...

I decided to go over to my friend Kim's house for Thanksgiving dinner. One of things where I was gonna get out of the house, you know.

"Now girl," she said, "we cook with pork in our vegetables."

"I don't care. That's cool," I said.

Sorry folks, I don't get all bent out of shape about such things. I don't cook with any meat in my vegetables. And sorry man, I don't sweat people about such. You do you the way you wanna do. I can choose not to eat or not. Meat in veggies doesn't bother me. I know how to flick it out the way with my fork.

I never go anywhere empty-handed. So I baked up 2 dozen cookies. For some odd reason, I saw only 9 responses on the evite, and thought "Well, 2 dozen cookies would be enough."

I usually make 6 dozen cookies. And 72 cookies... those go FAST. So you can imagine 2 dozen... and there were a good 30 people there. Hmmm... that was it.

Kim's cousin was FASCINATED with the cookies.

"Girl, you knit. And you make Cookies. I'ma have to marry you!"

I think I could have pimped him over those cookies.

My cookies are extremely popular with the men folks.

LOL

Anyway, when I got there, Kim was in the shower. I talked to a couple of people I knew, like her mama, her sister, cousin, etc. Kim came in and I gave her a beautiful crocheted blanket of her nephew.


This blanket usually takes a month, but man, I've been struggling with it for about 6months. I'd pick it up and put it down. I don't know WHAT my problem was.


But it was a lovely blanket, a new style I've been experimenting with, which I use to do as an adult blanket. Looks like it works well in the baby form too. I think this is the third one of this type for a baby boy I've made. I think I'll stick with it.



Anyway, for those who know me, I absolutely LOVE giving homemade gifts, and I do indeed associate this with the holiday season. If I can give gifts that I've crafted with my hands, it makes me feel real good, and like I've done something special, from the heart.

So, that made me happy.

I was sitting in the dining room, and the football game was on in the living room.

*Plotting hard for a few minutes on how to get from my dining room chair to the sofa*

I LOVE football. It becomes ESPECIALLY important when one has a fantasy football team. My team, "The Original Oldboys", is running in the middle of the league, and uh... I need to see if I'm going to move up in the rankings or not. (We're coming for you Tazzee!!)

So... I am equipped with my bag of crochet stuff, so I can get some work done on a current overdue baby girl project.

Peeps went downstairs to take pictures or something. This left the couch empty. I casually made my way over there.

And when I sat on the couch... and there's a nickel bag of weed there.

Staring back at me.

Whispering my name.

"Pssst. LadyLeeeee! Original Oldgirl!!"

What do you do in this situation? I was the only one in the living room. People were in the adjoining living room talking.

What do you do? When something DEEP inside that you didn't know was there, says...

"Dang. A joint would be real nice right about now."

I had been suffering from a SPLITTING headache most of the day, and it was still in full swing.

Some weed... well the medical benefits of it would have been GRAND.

All these thoughts were swimming through my head, while I was sitting there watching the ball game and crocheting rapidly.

Crocheting very furiously and rapidly.

Then more sane crazy stuff went through my head. If the person came back looking for his weed, and it wasn't there... and see me there sitting on the couch, then I would be catching a beatdown.

Not a good look.

So SOMEONE came over and saw it, picked it up, sat down and talked about it. Tried to put it to my nose for me to smell it. I jerked back. I was already fiening from somewhere DEEP within.

And I don't understand why. I don't smoke weed anymore. (If you want to know why, and you want a REALLY good laugh, go back and read this post: Cannabis Ativa... Smoke No More.)

I have sleeping giants deep inside. They sleep and slumber. I am not as aware of them as I should be, until I trip up over them as I'm skipping along.

I quiet myself. And tip toe away.... Don't wake the sleeping giants.

Ugh.

This craving I was having...it was not good. Because I was thoroughly confused for the next hour. I was smelling weed. Some lovely dinner rolls were baking. I was smelling weed and rolls. I think someone walked by. They smelled like weed to me.

Between that and the splitting headache, I was not doing well. My heart was beating a little faster than normal. And Kim's people were having a rousing good time. (They are a LIVELY bunch).

Don't wake the sleeping Giants...

And then, also, I know I completely confuse people. I am an EXTREMELY quiet person. Some people can deal with that, while others can't. (I will always remember what Cyncere sister said to me many years ago. "You're a quiet scientist. But you got a good heart!")

Very quiet. But I am VERY attentive. I am keenly aware of who and what's around me at all times. Trust. I am. I listen to and see everything, but you may never know that I am actually there.

So I sat there quietly, listening, crocheting, watching the game.

I heard the most fascinating convo going on in the kitchen. This one woman, I don't know who she was or her relation to the family, had a business of some sort, or some type of hobby. People were always on her about doing whatever she did for money, but she wanted to do it from the heart, and not because she had to do it. It was something she loved to do, not really worth losing her love for it over it being something she had to do. Not worth keeping it as a business. It was draining her.

I'm not sure the people she was conversing with understood her. I understood her fully.

I feel this way about my writing, my crocheting... a lot of the therapeutic stuff I do that I rarely mention on blog.

Even about baking a very good cookie for you.

I do those things from the heart. And that was the first time I heard that from someone who felt the same way I feel. I don't know WHAT I'd do if I lost love for the things I love to do. I just don't know.

I spent time pondering this while sitting there crocheting.

So, dinner was finally ready. There were A LOT of people in a small space, and I decided to just wait 'til everybody got their food before I made my way to the kitchen. I only wanted veggies, so those are always left.

Here's my plate.

A veggie plate, man. There were veggies everywhere. My eyes glaze over at the sight of them.

I went ahead and had some stuffing. I guess that had gravy from meat in it. Couldn't tell. I think it may have just been cornbread stuffing.

I don't know. Did not ask.

It was good. I loved all the veggies. Cooked southern styled. For a LONG time! Oh my it was GOOD.

I had the ITIS something terrible. I needed a cot and a blanket... BAD.

And the key lime cake... I don't even want to talk about that. WOW.

I really wanted to play cards. REALLY. But there were too many people. Folks were talking about drinking shots and playing cards. I'm not a great spades player. (I'm more of a poker girl). I was still headachy and not in the mood. I might do something wrong and get cussed, and...

Uh, time to go home, lol.

Anyway, I wrapped up a piece of cake (key lime, of course), and went home around 7:30 or 8 o'clock.

Later that evening, in the midst of my uncertainty and uneasiness about the holiday season in general, I thought much about my day. I thought much about that highlighted parts above in yellow...

Those were the most important truths of my Thanksdgiving day.

Truths like, being a quiet person and a loner. Sometimes I am ashamed of that. I want to be like everyone else sometimes, but that ain't good either. I've been made to feel guilty about that all my life. After meeting my father last year, and actually understanding from whence my temperment comes... I embrace it.

I am who I am. Truly unique.

Truths like, my giants are still there, deep inside, sleeping silent. There are many that I won't even mention. I'm not perfect, you see. (And people think I am pious. GREAT compliment. But really it makes me feel like O_o ). And how, every once in awhile something creeps up that wakes "something" up in me, to the point where my heart is beating fast and I'm agitated, almost to the point of shaking.

Truths like, I have a deep love for giving homemade gifts during this time of year, or all year really. Whether it's writing a story for you, making a blanket that will last a lifetime, making a really good batch of cookies, or a myriad of other creative things I enjoy doing.

That does much for my heart, for some reason. I suppose it's connected to my inner-me, my inner peace. I also learned that this is okay, and I don't have to charge, and everything doesn't have to be about making money off of it.

The glee in your voice, the smile on your face, your love for what I've done with my hands for you is my payment. I wouldn't trade it for all the money in the world.

And if you want to take it deep: I like giving people things that I make with my hands. Things that take a lot of personal time. I want people to have something in their hands to remember me by when I'm gone from this place.

(You think about these things when you're chronically ill, man).

Funny what one learns...

And thinks about...

And accepts...

And understands...

And acknowledges...

On Thanksgiving day.

And for all that I am, all that I know, all that I love, all that I want and need and have to give, and all that I yearn to have and be...

I turn Thanksgiving around.

And be sure I'm continuously Giving Thanks.