Technically, I should post a food blog today. But I suspect we’re all fooded-out after the feasts yesterday and we can wait until next week.
My Thanksgiving weekend gift to you is this: all of you, writers or not, go find an hour of your own this weekend to do something to make you feel refreshed and renewed and filled with beauty. Maybe that’s going to a fabric shop to finger the silks and paisleys. Maybe you’ll watch a movie nobody else wants to see. Maybe you’ll have a facial or a pedicure or go for a long walk with crunchy leaves or buy some new music and listen to it.
Here are a couple of things that make me happy: going to Whole Foods to look around at things I might cook extravagantly. Last week, I was looking for the ingredients for a cereal I want to try, made with barley and almond milk and dried cherries. I found loose barley and pearl barley and bags of barley, but no quick-cooking, which is what this recipe requires. So I found a clerk, a young man with dark eyes and great hair who lit up at my request. Together we went to one aisle and then another, and then when we couldn’t find it, we stood before the rices and he told me about eating eating barley bread in in his native Morrocco, and how much he likes it and how he cooks it, and how he had not had any in four years. (Hmm. Just realized there’s Morrocco again.)
That counts as an artist date. Cooking counts as long as it’s something that’s involved and lovely and you aren’t doing it out of obligation. I cooked a turkey for my youngest to take home with him yesterday (he is young and poor) and experimented with apple-blackberry crumble and–oh, host of the gods–the absolutely fantastic banoffee pudding (which said son adored. "What is this called again?"), and all the while, the girls in the basement were very busy and working hard on the pages I hope to capture today.
That counts as an artist date, too.
Do whatever you like most, for at least an hour. Nurture yourself this holiday weekend with beauty, color, music, crafts, whatever you enjoy.
And I’d love to hear what you do. Maybe I’ll get some new ideas, or somebody else reading here will.