Thankful
Or, what do you do when the world's going to hell?
I’ve been in a very weird place lately.
I wake up in the morning with part of me screaming that the world is ending, that America is on fire, that we’ve elected a strongman bent on plowing through the guardrails of decency and democracy; that he’s going to appoint a rogues gallery of charlatans and sycophants and rapists and clowns, and that everyone who isn’t straight, white, male and Christian will become even more of a second-class citizen, and that, eight or twelve or sixteen years from now, my children won’t be voting, they’ll be bowing down to King Barron the First.
And yet.
And yet the sun is shining. The leaves are changing. I’ve read some great books and taken some beautiful bike rides. My runs are sucking slightly less. My daughters are happy and thriving. My older girl just finished stage managing one of the best shows I’ve ever seen – professional or amateur. And she’s graduating from college a semester early…and she’s already landed a job! My younger one continues to be as good-natured and cheerful and easygoing as she’s been basically since she was born. She still wants to spend time with me. And she makes me laugh.
Last month, before Halloween, we went to a pumpkin patch, and Phoebe spotted the most beautiful pumpkin in all the land. It was perfectly spherical and utterly unblemished, glowing a lovely orange-gold…the ideal pumpkin for carving into a jack o’ lantern. She hurried to scoop up this treasure before someone else spotted it, and, as soon as she’d lifted it, she saw that it was completely rotten on the other side. She put it back, wiped her hands, and walked away, muttering, “That pumpkin catfished me.”
If a mother is only as happy as her least happy child, then the inverse has to be true. My daughters are happy, and that makes me happy. Even with the world on fire.
Life keeps going. And the temptation is to ignore the clanging chimes of doom in my brain and just turn inward. Take care of my house, take care of my garden. Cook and bake, write my books and ride my bike, and let whatever happens happens. In 2016, I was – everyone was – alarmed, and terrified, and willing and eager to do anything and everything that would protect progress and freedom.
And…we lost. Do I – do any of us – want to go rushing back to the barricades, knowing how little it mattered in the end?
But ignoring politics is a luxury that not everyone can afford. There are plenty of people more vulnerable than I am, who can’t just cook and go for long walks and stick their head in the sand.
I’m going to continue to financially support organizations that aid immigrants, that defend free speech and fight book bans, and that help women access reproductive health care. I’m going to do what I can to help people more at risk than I am. And I’m going to hope that the next pendulum swing takes us to a better place.
I’d love to hear how all of you are navigating this. Is anyone else burnt out and exhausted? Are there any organizations I don’t know about that are doing good work?
Meanwhile: Thanksgiving.
I love Thanksgiving. I think I’d love any holiday that was centered on food instead of religion, that falls during my favorite time of year. I love cooking, and setting a nice table. I love turkey, and cranberry sauce and pumpkin pie, and the carbs. My God, the carbs. This year we’re having stuffing, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes and macaroni and cheese (I downloaded the Kitchenista’s Thanksgiving cookbook last year, and it’s been an invaluable resource).
Plus biscuits and cornbread. For six people. (That sound you heard is my husband muttering, “It’s too much food,” under his breath).
I’ll spend most of Wednesday grating and mixing and baking. Then, on Thursday morning, I’m running a 5K, because I have now somehow become a person who does that. I will follow Ina’s recipe for stuffing, and I’ll make Ina’s brown butter cornbread, which is decadent and fabulous and the most moist, delicious cornbread I’ve ever had.
Note: If you prefer a dry, crumbly, more austere cornbread, this is not for you. This is basically a cake.
INGREDIENTS:
½ lb butter (two sticks)
2 ¼ C whole milk (if you have buttermilk, use a cup of that, and use whole milk for the rest)
2 extra-large eggs, lightly beaten
3 C all-purpose flour (the Kitchenista is a big fan of White Lily flour for baking, so now I am, too)
1 C sugar
1 C fine yellow cornmeal
2 T baking powder
1 T kosher salt
Flaky sea salt for sprinkling.
Preheat the oven to 350. In a large cast-iron skillet, melt the butter over medium heat. Continue to heat the butter until it’s a lovely toasty brown with a nutty smell – watch it carefully to make sure it doesn’t burn.
Pour butter and browned bits into a medium bowl. DO NOT wash your skillet – just let it sit.
Whisk the milk(s) into the butter, then whisk in eggs until combined. DO NOT ADD EGGS TO HOT BUTTER. It won’t end well.
In a large bowl, whisk together your dry ingredients. Make a well in the center, pour in the butter/eggs/milk mixture, stir just until combined. Do not worry about the lumps.
Let the mixture rest for 15 minutes. DO NOT SKIP THIS STEP. It’s important.
Stir the batter. Pour it into your pan. Smooth the top. Sprinkle with sea salt. Bake for 25-30 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean. Serve warm or at room temperature.
In writing news, my friend Elizabeth has written a fabulous first chapter. I’ll be sharing it soon and show you a little of the revision process. I’ve also been meeting with the Blue Stoop fellowship winners about their works in progress, which has really been great. As much as I love writing my own stuff, I also love a chance to dig into someone else’s work, and trying to help them make it better.
AM READING: Blue Sisters by Coco Mellors, and Shark Heart: A Love Story by Emily Habeck, after my hairdresser told me that another client told her that everyone on Tiktok said it was amazing.
AM WATCHING: “Lioness,” which is not my usual speed – it’s like “Full Metal Jacket,” but with ladies, and “From,” which is very “Lost”-adjacent, complete with mysterious numbers.
AM SEEKING: New inspiring music for Thursday’s race. What gets you pumped up?
Kamala's loss and the situation around it hit too close to home for me. I am, just like her, a biracial woman and all of the B.S. that played out on the national stage was a repeat of my own personal life in many ways. I too have been passed over for white mediocre, and racist, men. For all black women it was a slap in the face. A lot of us are sitting this one out. There will be no protests, organizing, etc. Because here we are, at the dumpster fire despite all our efforts to avoid it.
That being said, I also love Thanksgiving. I am in charge of making the turkey, dressing, gravy, and mash potatoes. Love the carbs! It is the best meal I have the entire year. I will be very thankful for the large plate of food and leftovers. It goes along well with the stress eating after a sucky presidential election.
Laughing at your daughter being catfished by a pumpkin 😊. I am swinging wildly between panic and outrage and an ostrich with its head in the sand. However, I recently read something about trying to act locally against the horrible things happening. I am fortunate to live in the metro DC area, which is pretty solidly blue. But I am going to start attending school board meetings to make sure my daughters will continue to get a real education. I am also looking into how to support the local library system against book banning. Local seems like something I can manage. And of course I’ll keep voting and donating when I can. I am also trying even harder than usual to be kind. I am naturally kind, quick to hold a door etc. but I am going out of my way to let two cars in, or rush up to get the door for someone. Being kind is another easy way to make a positive change in the world.