"A long, long time ago, Christopher Columbus sailed the ocean blue, until he finally stumbled upon the great round planet he called America. When he finally made it to dry land, he was starving, because the only things he'd been eating on his ship were Triscuits with peanut butter and the occasional salty fish. Luckily for him, there was a group of cowboys and Indians on shore preparing a feast to celebrate their recent harvest of pumpkin, corn, green beans and cans of cranberry gelatin."
"They hired a wait staff for the occasion, and dressed them in funny hats and stiff collars made from the finest American polyester. Their thick cuffs doubled as bar cloths to wipe up gravy and wine spritzer spills. The group gathered around a long wooden table and spent the next five hours discussing New World affairs and picking corn out of their teeth. Then the men played a round of touch football while the women dried the dishes on their aprons and the little children watched a Charlie Brown Thanksgiving on TBS."
And that, fellow Americans, is the story of the first Thanksgiving.
I love Thanksgiving and wish it wasn't considered a layover on the great trip toward Christmas. This is a holiday that doesn't press us to think about the things we want, but to appreciate the things we already have. I love that Thanksgiving celebrates my favorite things--family and food--and urges us to pause, ever so briefly, to count our blessings and express our gratitude. I feel blessed in about 100 different ways, and owe about 75% of my good fortune to dumb luck.
There's a reason this blog is called Much to My Delight. If I had more complaints, I'd have named it Much to My Chagrin. I love my life and the terrific people in it. I'm feeling very full right now, and I haven't even eaten yet.