TheBanyanTree: Sunny Morning Thoughts

[Maria Gibson]

It may be the sunshine or it may be the cool breeze out-of-doors, but I 
feel kind of peaceful this morning.  It's probably been a while since I 
felt that unstirring feeling and it's welcome.  The therapist says I 
have choices to make and she is right so the feeling may not last very 
long but I'm going to take it while it's here.  I spent yesterday 
contemplating those choices and found it to be a hard day emotionally.  
I think it's good to take a day off now and then.  The unthoughts won't 
go anywhere, they'll wait patiently for me and if I persist in 
unthinking, they'll think nothing of barging in.  Not to worry.

I made dressing for the T-Day birthday luncheon at work, this morning.  
This is a recipe which, to my knowledge, has never been written down.  
You almost have to have eaten it for years after watching its coming 
together to know how to do it.  Not because it's complicated but because 
it is subtle in taste but that element seems to rest precariously (at 
best) on the shoulders of just the right amount of this and that.  As I 
cooked onion and celery in butter and added poultry seasoning and 
cinnamon, I was reminded of my mother and holidays in our unhappy 
household.  Every Thanksgiving morning I spent at home I woke up to that 
aroma.  It signaled a normal time, a normal day and a mom who was 
engaged and doing things that were familiar and good.  I could tick on 
my fingers what would happen from there and it was nice to have a sense 
of what was coming.  So, this morning, I cubed a good, hard french loaf 
into bite size pieces and added Pepperidge Farms herbed stuffing mix.  I 
dumped in the cheapest, which means the sweetest, applesauce with 
cinnamon and mixed and tasted and mixed and tasted.  I added the 
butter/veggie mix and tasted.  The mass turned moist and made that 
slicky-sticky noise as it was folded contemplatively into something 
familiar.  I can smell it baking behind me now, warming my kitchen and 
my heart.

My in-laws are in town this week.  Funny thing is, I think they finally 
like me.  I quit trying for that many years ago but I can't say I mind 
it even at this late date.  It only took twenty-four years.  Of course, 
we've all mellowed and marinated with the years and so there is much 
more give and a lot less take on everyone's end which makes the whole of 
visits a lot more palatable.  They arrived last Friday and will leave 
tomorrow but even as it has been a good visit, I'm glad they're 
leaving.  I'm too preoccupied of late to keep this up for very long.

Betty, my mother-in-law, and I stopped at the store the other day for 
some dinner items.  I think she was a little surprised when I told her I 
really like rutabaga.  Oh, this is an awesome vegetable.  It's so simple 
and so refreshing.  The rutabaga doesn't pretend to be anything it 
isn't.  It's plain but substantial.  Hearty but tender when cooked 
right.  The outer rind is not pretty but underneath is a beauty.  I 
think of myself in the rutabaga category of people.  That may be a weird 
thing to say and I don't mean to hold myself above the crowd but there 
isn't another vegetable I'd rather be compared to than a rutabaga and 
since no one has done it for me, I'll do it for myself.  I knight me a 
rutabaga.  I prefer me cubed and boiled with just a little butter, salt 
and pepper.  I'm good hot but am just as good the next day left over.  I 
could make a meal of just me and be happy as a lark.  I have a great 
deal of good things for you and go with just about anything.  If you've 
always thought you didn't like me, try me with an open mind and hungry 
tummy.  I promise satisfaction.



I find that if I expect the worst, I am happier.  No, really, don't call 
the men in white coats just yet, I'm not suicidal.  I have just found, 
in one of my many turns around the proverbial block, that there is a lot 
less disappointment when the worst is prepared for in a realistic way.  
That way, my feet are never totally taken out from under me with a 
resulting wind knocked out of me thump to the ground.  Even if I 
stumble, my arms know to go out to catch the fall because I saw the 
reality of it as a possibility.  I wasn't always this way so it must 
come from experience.  Yes, I think so.  Experience has taught me this 
lesson.  The things I wouldn't have wanted still come but I'm not blind 
sided and can see them in a different light.  We each have to do what is 
best for ourself and the situation with which we deal every day.  I 
could say we have to do what makes us happy but that and the previous 
statement are not exactly the same thing.  Were I to do what is best 
only for me I'd be coming to you from a studio apartment somewhere.  
Instead I am at home with unthoughts because I am tired of dealing with 
thoughts.  I am being driven mad by the aroma of Thanksgiving and the 
anticipation of going to work to enjoy the company of my co-workers over 
turkey and gravy. 

I am enjoying this wonderfully cool, sunny, breezy morning.  I hope you 
are as well.

Maria