The grass is always greener. The grass is always greener on the other side. The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.
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All articles filed in Thanksgiving
Dark Meat or White Meat
Hectic smells, feelings of anticipation, and gurgles in my throat for sparkling cider brew. Sure, there will be cranberries, jello with surprises, or green bean casserole, but I had discovered from an early age how to dispose of unwanted onions, and other things in the napkin on my lap during thanksgiving dinner. Instead, I focus…
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Mashed Potatoes and Trust
“Mom! You agreed to let us make the mashed potatoes, and we’re doing it. You don’t need to micro-manage the whole process!” The words my daughter spoke stung, but they were true. I had allowed her to be in charge of creating the decadent, buttery-smooth potatoes that were her favorite part of our traditional Thanksgiving…
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Bethany’s Thanksgiving Playlist 2018
Two boys banter back and forth at the breakfast bar, laughing. I lift my eyes from making lunches for a moment to realize how much they are enjoying one another. My oldest looks up at me with a genuine smile, “Mom, I’m so glad he’s here.” Slightly confused, I ask who he is referencing. “My…
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In the right now ordinary.
“I think those women are checking you out again,” Jeremy had a wry grin on his face, refusing to let me off the hook for how “CUTE!” the women at the bar had insisted I looked tonight. “Well you know, I AM rather fetching…” I said it with a hair toss, not to be out…
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The Ache of Presence
I knew I had to bake a cake and be present to the past. It was not at all what seemed possible on these busy few days before the holidays. Everything within me wanted to stay disconnected from the weight that was creeping into my “to do” list.
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The Mingling
No, thank you mingles together as November unfolds into December and the waiting that marks Advent mingles together all that my heart holds in the realm of emptiness and hope.
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Bethany’s Thanksgiving Playlist 2016
November holds a special place in my heart. I hope it always does. Between my birthday and Thanksgiving, I love to linger in the remaining moments of fall during this month.
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Traditions with Papa.
“Here she comes, Miss America…” I can still hear my Papa sing it, as he did every time I walked into the room.
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Thanksgiving Stuffing
I have stuffed so much of me down into me; I sometimes choke on the regurgitation of me.
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