A Radical Feast in the Forest

In years past I sat in my high ivory Chicago tower stressing over what was missing in my life.  One particular Thanksgiving eve the object that I lacked, and seemingly needed most, was a gravy boat.  For soon it would be Thanksgiving and the in-laws would be descending upon our home.  Having paged through one too many Martha Stewart Living magazines this gravy boat would need be made of china, matching my Ebony and Ivory Noritake pattern.   Always lacking, I believed the missing piece of my otherwise perfect life was this china gravy boat. 

Now I sit at a wooden picnic table each Thanksgiving.  I eat off a tin plate, looking up at the stars through a canopy of redwood trees.  Our dinner is roasted Cornish game hens, cooked in Dutch ovens atop a medley of roasted root vegetables seasoned with fresh thyme, rosemary, and sage.  Stuffing is warmed atop the campfire. 

I still don't have the gravy boat.  But I have so much more.