Today is a great day. Because almost everyone around me has it off… including me. It’s a day to spend with your family enjoying family things. And what better family bonding moment can there be than to stare at Isabel?
a family that stares together, stares strong
So this Thanksgiving while you are sitting there eating that third slice of pie… give it a go and multi-task some Isabel staring time into it.
And remember the most important thing, you don’t have to stare alone:
I am still trying to hold on to Halloween. Mostly because I’m not a big Thanksgiving fan.
I mean I love having a day dedicated to being thankful. I get to see my family… but I really cannot stand cornucopias.
And I am always afraid their little coned shaped wicker horn is going to show up and provide my day of thankfulness with a serious visual blight.
So I suggest a new jazzy holiday. One that combines the sheer magic of Halloween and the thankfulness of Thanksgiving:
And see you still get all the best parts of the holidays… spooky scary things and food! The best part is that the cornucopia must check itself at the door.
And you can party safely without the fear of that horn of plenty getting in your way.
Hi Internet. This is a new type of post for me. It’s a pro/con subject matter. And this one is about cornucopia’s. If you find yourself questioning the existence of the horn of plenty… this is the article Phil Collins would say you’ve been waiting for all your life.
Pro Cornucopia: Amber’s side of the cornucopia debate
I’m indifferent. They just hold fruit and stuff… I don’t see the big deal.
I don’t love them or hate them.
Indifferently yours,
Amber
Con Cornucopia: Lauren’s Cornucopia Conundrum
It’s Lauren. And I have something to tell you. I don’t like cornucopia’s. The back story of this is that when I was a kid I loved to check the brand new calendar to see what day of the week my birthday was. Like every other cool kid out there I prayed it never landed on a Wednesday… because it would be too far to wait for a weekend! But the calendar always had alternative plans for me…
Unlike my sister who was born in July and usually had beautiful pictures of fireworks. And my parents born in June had beaches, summer in full swing. And both Christine and Isabel born in March who would have fields of gorgeous flowers for their calendar month. And the children of December who had these fantastic winter scenes, Christmas, promises for the New Year… and of course October and September riddled with the most gorgeous changing leaf colors you have ever seen. And then there was November… and the Cornucopia.
It was on a table, near a turkey, with a pilgrim, with an Indian. It was featured by itself, it was outside marring the beautiful scenery. But it was always there. And even on the calendars without a picture it would sneak its little wicker basket self in there.
Horns of sadness is more like it
And when I grew up I started to resent it, not just because of the beauty of the other months. But because the cornucopia was always so forced. I never remember us having one for any other day. I don’t remember getting a cornucopia to celebrate the crisp days of autumn, from a horn of plenty lot. Actually it was just wicker with plastic fruit on my grandma’s kitchen table. And it was only out for Thanksgiving. Now here is the moment we can all admit it’s not as charming as a Christmas tree, it’s not as fun as an Easter basket stuffed with candy, and it definitely could not hold a candle to a pink foiled doily valentine, heck it can’t even compete with Flag Day. It’s just a wicker horn with vegetables in it. And since I never have had to live a cold winter clutching my wicker horn to get me through the long nights, I just can’t get into it.
I also want to take this time to share from first to sixth grade I had to color the same cornucopia color page… every year. It may have even been this picture:
linked from family color pages. Featuring Families that color horns of seasonal fruits and vegetables
And one more thing about cornucopia’s. They are not even very convenient. I mean I don’t carry around horns of water. Or horns of markers. When I go to the market I don’t say “Horn” when they ask “Paper or plastic”. There are so many better ways to hold things. Bags, boxes, those little packs on the sides of mules. I just don’t get their horn-shaped allure.
And although this week I will get to see my family and eat wonderful food with them. And I will have a fantastic time… there is just a little hesitation knowing that a horned foe may show up. I just hope that we have plenty too cumbersome to fit in that wicker horn… if you know what I mean.