I love the postings about all the things we're grateful for. Many of them are commonplace, some extraordinary. One of the things I'm grateful for is that I've finally reached the stage -- whether from age or emotional maturity or divine intervention -- when I prefer a simple meal with family and friends to an extravagance of overeating foods that are far too rich for my body.
Hence, this year's festivities. A simple meal with my wonderful younger daughter and her partner: salad with tomatoes from garden (harvested green, then ripened on the counter, but still better than grocery store ones) and avocados from a friend; steelhead since they don't eat poultry or mammals; quinoa pilaf; buttercup squash from our garden; rhubarb crisp (from our garden, harvested last spring and frozen). After dinner, we lit Chanukah candles and enjoyed the traditional reading-aloud of a childhood favorite: Herschel and the Hannukah Goblins by Eric Kimmel (complete with silly goblin voices).
When my daughters were small, I wanted to minimize the commerciality of Chanukah (as distinct from the present-giving orgy of their father's family). So, no presents, but songs and games and books to read aloud. Years later, they confessed to me that they didn't want to imply they didn't like getting presents, but they liked Chanukah better than Christmas. What's important, what endures, is love and laughter, not material goods.
May your days be filled with joy and your nights with glorious light.
Hence, this year's festivities. A simple meal with my wonderful younger daughter and her partner: salad with tomatoes from garden (harvested green, then ripened on the counter, but still better than grocery store ones) and avocados from a friend; steelhead since they don't eat poultry or mammals; quinoa pilaf; buttercup squash from our garden; rhubarb crisp (from our garden, harvested last spring and frozen). After dinner, we lit Chanukah candles and enjoyed the traditional reading-aloud of a childhood favorite: Herschel and the Hannukah Goblins by Eric Kimmel (complete with silly goblin voices).
When my daughters were small, I wanted to minimize the commerciality of Chanukah (as distinct from the present-giving orgy of their father's family). So, no presents, but songs and games and books to read aloud. Years later, they confessed to me that they didn't want to imply they didn't like getting presents, but they liked Chanukah better than Christmas. What's important, what endures, is love and laughter, not material goods.
May your days be filled with joy and your nights with glorious light.