"between the ones who say there is a war and the ones who say there isn't"

There's a Gwendolyn Brooks poem I keep coming back to.  "First fight, then fiddle."   It's not exactly right for the situation, I'd like to simultaneously fight and fiddle, but it turns out I don't think I know how to do either.   But both are works in progress, I'm a work in progress, and the Kate McKinnon cover of Hallelujah is still making me tear up, even on the tenth watching.  And of course, the word fiddle brings up thoughts of Rome burning, but I am no Nero either.

These days are making me crave community, crave interaction, crave action, crave volunteering, crave contact.  I paint my self-portrait in shades of grumpy introvert (occasionally with a heart of gold, but more often with a heart of fear), and yet I want puppy piles and cookbook clubs and to be a safe space, to create safe spaces.  And I'll figure it out, I'll do something, it's no one's job to tell me how to be an ally, how to be effective, when they're fighting their own fight, I'm going to keep trying.

But there's also a feast holiday coming up, to start off a season that I'm still determined to make my own, to create my own families out of whatever I can get my hands on.  And in that spirit, here is my idea of plenty, here is my grand plan before I whittle it down into something slightly more approachable that remembers I only have one stove and so much counterspace.

 

tofurkey

shepherd's pie w/ cheese-crusted leeks

caramelized onion gravy

cider chestnut stuffing

spinach salad w/ pomegranates and manchego

sweet potato biscuits

Baked Acorn Squash with Chestnuts, Leeks and Apples

Green bean casserole w/ goat cheese, almonds and smoked paprika

Roasted Brussels Sprouts

Honey-Glazed Spiced Carrots

Roasted Garlic-Parmesan Mashed Potatoes

balsamic cranberry sauce

Gingerbread Upside-down Apple Cake

Chocolate Chocolate Cake

 

and 

 

Honey Whipped Ricotta-Stuffed Scones for breakfast the day of.