Thanksgiving is an interesting holiday. Oddly enough, it’s one of my favorites. There’s something so low stress about it with no gifts or cards to give; however, as a vegetarian and part Native American the holiday also seems slightly odd. I love the idea of having a day to get together with loved ones and breaking bread together, but there is a fine line between binge eating and enjoying the bounty of the meal. Moreover, I wish that the complex relationship between the Pilgrims and Native Americans wasn’t so easily dismissed with the glorified meal they shared together. I hope that one day the mistreatment of the Native People will be common knowledge and we can look at Thanksgiving in a new way.
All politics aside, I had a very pleasant day. I have spent the last three Thanksgiving’s in New York with Wojc, my sister, her husband and a handful of friends. I missed that whole group this year but was also happy to spend this year back in Port Orford.
In honor of my annual tradition, my brother and I embarked on a chilly run down to the beach in preparation for the indulgence to come. We spent early afternoon with my dad at a community dinner which was high spirited and celebratory.
We went on a hike down by elk river afterwards and reminisced about the days of attending a little hippie school in that very location.
In the evening, we headed back to my mom’s to begin cooking our delicious vegetarian feast. We stuck to the basic staples and were not disappointed. Every year we prepare a casserole dish that has meaning to our family as we fondly remember the kind woman who became a part of our lives and provided so much to our family.