Why Thanksgiving Should Begin in Mid-July

There's a fight over the carrot patch - kids pushing a shoving and clamoring to see who'll get to pull out a bigger carrot.  We form a line and take turns, oldest to youngest.  Each carrot pulled brings squeals of delight and an analysis of the 4' x 8' plot on which we laid down seeds back toward the end of spring.

They hastily rip off tops, pile carrots high in their box, run them to the kitchen sink to rinse and then chomp on in.

They come back for a couple red tomatoes and to snip a zinnia each.

Oranges, pinks, reds and yellows. . . sweet tastes and sweet smells. . . the feel of dirt beneat the nails, caked thick on finger tips.

We celebrate a Thanksgiving for the harvest at the end of it all - when the last bit's been gathered in - late autumn.

I think I'll start my Thanksgiving in now in mid-summer when we begin reaping the bounty.

* Lightening in the distant cloudy night sky.
* A reminder to hold plans loosely.  I always need that reminder.
* Gooey, half-melted chocolate chips in cookies.
* Visit with old friends - lots of hugs - lots of laughs.
* Plump heirloom tomatoes in abundance. . . turn red, little guys, turn red!
* The tired that makes me rest.
* Husband so quiet in the morning, I don't even wake.
* Baby ears of corn with blond and red hair.
* Splashes in the cold water.
* Kids snacking on carrots just pulled out of the earth.
* Brothers wrestling. . . laughing.
* Digging up carrots with the kids.
* Fresh-cut flowers on the kitchen counter.
* Ceiling fans.
* Inspiration and comfort food.
* Grace for my scattered inconsistent brain!
* The peace that come with just stopping it all for a minute.
* Pencil + Paper = Flexible To-Do List  :)