Thanksgiving...

... was yesterday, but it seems a good way to start. This space is largely an exercise in soliloquy, and counting your blessings is a good thing to do when talking to yourself.

My kitchen is newly yellow, and I'm thankful for yellow kitchens and yellowness generally. It's clean now too, and clean kitchens are the epitome of simple pleasure.

I'm thankful that my mate is having a better day today than yesterday. We began the day with a hug instead of a scowl.

My rescued pitbull pup is happy. He wags his tail and smiles, whereas two months ago he was prone to frequent cowering and the occasional growl.

I'm grateful for fall vegetables: delicata squash gratin with chipotle, maple-mustard braised brussels sprouts, roasted parsnips, Fuyu persimmons perfectly crisp, steamed green beans in butter and garlic.

I'm grateful for health insurance. (I have it now, for the first time in years, and that feels good. Just got my card today.)

I'm grateful that both my parents are present and accounted for, for today.

I'm grateful that the world hasn't ended yet, and might even be called a more hopeful place than it was this time last year.

I'm grateful that food in particular is ascendant in the public consciousness, and grateful for the privilege of the work I do at this time and in this place. I feel like change is happening -- perhaps slower than it needs to, but happening -- and I'm glad to be part of that energy and shift.

I'm grateful for all patches of fertile soil. Especially for Alemany Farm in San Francisco.

I'm grateful for my little house, and for the privilege of time... to make this a deliberate home, and then to make some sense of it all by writing about it.