This may sound contradictory, but this holiday has been heavy
on moderation.
Little bit of this, some of that, dollop of wonder, childlike
tastes of food, friends and family.
One gift in the household: a bear ornament for a log cabin
tree of countable branches.
Heat from a wood stove and tiny Hanukkah flames.
Dim sum lunch on Christmas Day; creamy Bolognese from
Thanksgiving turkey stock on Christmas Night.
On the shores of Great Latkes, savory bean dish.
The piece de resistance, an Eggplant Parmesan, courtesy of
our loving Italian “mom”’s family recipe, the cumulative efforts of four loving
souls.
Wine, Chinese takeout with vegetarian choices.
Because but for the turkey on Thanksgiving, that fed the
Bolognese plan a month later, some slices of smoked turkey (again), we are
moderating the meat.
Okay, say the words … animal consciousness. Three days after
Christmas, we visited a family farm and saw a spunky pig in a barn. Seventeen
lambs blatting for milk, for what seemed like attention but was more nine parts
hunger, one part fear. All eighteen in line for holiday slaughter.
Call me a citizen in training in Moderation Nation.
Next: Running for
Your Life: Resolutions?
