Friday, November 23, 2012



Thanksgiving. That great American secular holiday. A day to be with your family. Not working. Always used to be my favorite. All teh family warmth and food and no Christmas present anxiety to deal with. Just being together. Our first year in Tulsa, Andrea and I had Thanksgivng dinner with a Native America family. She always thought it  was a day to thank the Indians. Family, food, football, no work.

Not this year. I meet Martin for conversation at the Bean. Teddy’s there too. He’s had a very positive contribution as no-nonsense set of ears. Common sense. And deep care for the whole project. Lay it all out again.  Possibiities. Possibiitites. There will be phone calls and e-mails and texts in between turkey and mashed potatoes and cranberries all day. A lot of work being done to find a way. 

Walking up Amsterdam, the Quebecois Christmas tree people have arrived a day early. Teddy doesn’t know about this. Come on, Teddy, you got to meet these guys. He looks at me quizzically. I tell him how 2 or 3 Quebecois Christms Tree Cartels control the whole New York market. Turf battles and all. And the same sellers come back each year.  Become our cross street neighbors for a month. Then disappear in the middle of Chirstmas Eve.  And the magic urban forest appears overnight filling the avenues with the smell of evergreen. 

Sure enough, when I look in the shelter, Dominic is there. His blonde braids and semidreads, watchcap, heavy sweater, work pants and heavy boots. Could’ve just walked in from the forest. I welcome him back. Introduce Teddy. Teddy tells them, whatever you need, just come on over. 

And I know with their arrival, this year, now too, has wound its way to its final days, the festive season keeping us from thinking too much about where we have been, another year gone. My goal is to let that go this year. Let each day be its own. Just be glad they’re back and the spruce and pine and fir filling the streets. Dominc, bienvenue encors.....

Teddy and I walk up the street. Have to bring some of Hugo’s food to the guys. 

Time for a break. For Thanksgivng. Giving thanks. Breuggeman said resistance begins in doxology....

And I am. Thankful. 

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