I’m thankful for this blog (and that article on the turkey hotline!). I’m thankful for my friends who are willing to stick their necks out for what’s right–working “harder than me to make the world a better place” is about right. And I’m thankful I get to spend time in a warm kitchen counting blessings and forgetting about all the stuff out there. And wine.
I’m stuck on 8. After 1 and 2 I’m still trying to swallow the absurdity of it all. Yesterday I made a donation to the pipeline protesters. That helped a bit.
I’m thankful I don’t have children. I’m thankful to have lived in a time where narwhals and polar bears and health care and women’s rights were real things. I’m thankful for the bubble of California. I’m thankful for the distraction of your blog and others. The Food Network cooking shows.
I’ve been relegated to bringing salad, SALAD! on Thursday. It’ll be a massaged kale, shredded sprout number with cranberries and pomegranates and nuts, maybe some cheese too, but I think I’ll need to make these cookies over the weekend. Thanks1
I’m thankful for my parents, who worked to give me many advantages in life but made sure I learned enough about the world to avoid taking my privilege for granted. I’m thankful for a supportive partner and a warm, stable home. Lastly, thankful that I don’t have to spend Thanksgiving with my extended family this year – it’s just too soon, too raw, and I might accidentally compare to the burnished color of the turkey to His Tanned Face, irreparably damaging what are otherwise warm family ties.
I knew this village was a bubble, but I had no idea. I’m so sad and so angry and at a loss. I’m worried for friends, loved ones, and my four kids. We have to hold our heads high and carry on, I suppose.
And then, I am grateful for this bubble. It makes me feel safe.
I’m thankful for home-baked cookies and the intentions behind baking them (which are almost always lovely). I’m thankful that I feel free and in feeling free, I can work to make sure others feel free too. I’m thankful for voices like Tim’s. I’m thankful for nicely designed feminist T-shirts.
I appreciate this post. Like you, I’m deeply saddened and don’t know what to say. I’m thankful to have had the Obamas for eight years. We’ll carry on their work when they leave the White House but it ain’t gonna be the same. I, too, am thankful I can donate to worthy causes. Planned Parenthood is on my list too….and the ACLU and….
Have a good holiday.
I’m thankful for all the sacrifice my parents did for me to have the safe and prosperous life I have, and for all the parents that do it for their kids today. I’m thankful for selflessness, community and micro-collectives that can change lives one at a time.
I’m thankful for all the good things we are capable of doing to one another, at a time when darkness seems to be prevalent.
I’m thankful for my parents, who are lovely socially and politically conscious people and have provided such a great example to me. Talking to them over the last two weeks has been the biggest comfort- even though they are as worried as the rest of us. I’m thankful to live in the same state as them and be able to enjoy their company during the holidays.
My list looks eerily similar to yours, minus the Butterball visit. Haven’t read the Eater article yet but look forward to it!
Every day since the election I have stopped by to see if there is a new post (just doing my blog rounds), and every day I have stopped to contemplate your photo of young Hillary Clinton and feel sad. So many food bloggers have said, “Oh, we can’t do politics here, too divisive” even when you KNOW what they privately think– the fact that you were willing to wear your heart on your sleeve made me know that you must surely be suffering now. So, I am so so sorry. Best to you as we figure out how to get through this.
Thanks for making me cry at work Tim!
These were (mostly) happy tears.
I’m thankful that you continue to use your blog and your oven for the greater good.
I’m also thankful for your reminder of hope that Lottie and Doof gave me today. After weeks of feeling sad and lost and hopeless for myself, my friends, my nieces and nephews, my 80 year old parents and for people I don’t even know. The events in 2016 leading up to the election and since, have had me feeling things I never thought I would after a little over four decades on this planet (fear, doubt, shame, outrage). I truly thought I lived in a different (better) America. I thought some of my “friends” were smarter,kinder and more educated. Thanks to social media for uncovering their brilliant disguises.
You reminded me today that while we are still here we have time to continue to make this world not just what we thought it was or think it should be- but even better than that.
i am thankful for all of the people helping, working and thanking. i am really thankful for the sharing of ideas and the conversations that were, are and will. i am thankful that in a mess of an inbox I can get your blog posts delivered and feel connected and hungry for cookies!
I’m still struggling, but I haven’t had a panic attack in two days, so that’s a start! One thing that helped me break a panic attack last week was call my senator from bed. I spoke to her staffer for ten minutes and was then able to move.
I am grateful that I have a computer and can look up information to make daily calls, funds to increase my monthly donation to Planned Parenthood, start a monthly donation to the ACLU, and a paid digital subscription to the NYT. I am grateful that I live in a very “blue” city and am surrounded by people equally as stunned and willing to do the work to make sense of this world. I am grateful for people being open and honest and sharing their words, and now, more than ever, I am grateful for my original love, food.
I’m thankful for bloggers like you who put their heart and fears and hopes out there so that your readers know they aren’t alone. I’m thankful for some small means to be able to contribute to agencies doing good in the world. I’m thankful that although I live in a state that for whatever crazy reasons sees mostly red, my town is a tiny dot of blue. I’m thankful for health and family and travel. And I’m thankful that little things like new cookie recipes can make hearts feel a bit lighter.
I’m thankful for everyone who doesn’t just move on. I’m thankful for other food writers expressing the same doubts that I’ve had since November 8: whether writing about cookies is really the journey to continue now. (I also write about food & climate change,food & migration, food & health, food & power. But still: all these cookies vs. all these things that need fighting for.) I’m thankful for the good politicians and journalists that are left and for strong ngo’s. I don’t know if you call them ngo’s in the US. I’m in Belgium and it’s been a seismic wave here, too. I’m thankful for the way internet makes it easier to connect with likeminded people, inspire each other, raise each other up.
And thank you for this blog, I love it.
Thank you for writing this. As I have checked back in the last two weeks, it has been reassuring to see the lovely HRC’s face. Thank you for being bold and honest. It’s something we can do.
I have realized that I need to do more, every day, for the greater good. Things seemed to be going so well that I guess I’d gotten complacent being on the right side of history.
Last week – donated to the ACLU, Planned Parenthood, Food Lifeline. Today, bought spices from Penzey’s, planning to write some congressmen because I was just told that would count for more. Ok. I’m stepping up. This is my wake-up call. But we are stronger together.
I’m thankful that there are like-minded people out there, crying, getting angry, figuring out what on earth to do, and baking cookies. I also quit facebook, but have reached out to my real friends – all of whom I’m very thankful for.
I’m thankful for Pantsuit Nation which reminds me there are many of us fighting the good fight, for nature to retreat to and clear my head, and for my dog who has no idea what any of this madness means and simplifies life when I get home.
I’m thankful for everyone who fights to make the world a better place. I’m thankful for my niece, who fills me with so much love it’s unbelievable. I’m thankful for the doctors and all the staff that removed that bastard tumor from his brain. And universal health care, so thankful for that. I’m thankful for second chances. I’m thankful for those who speak up, even/especially when it’s the uncomfortable thing to do.
Thank you for this post,Tim. And for creating a thoughtful corner of the internet with Lottie + Doof.
I’m thankful for a new job in a new town, for having the most patient of husbands, and for my two cats who so thoroughly enjoy simple pleasures (even though one of them helped himself to a few nibbles of pumpkin pie last night as it was cooling).
Thankful for pie, thankful for my students who are more thoughtful than anyone ever gives teenagers credit for being, thankful for artists & writers who push me and teach me, thankful for my happy childhood and the twenty-three years I had with my dad before he died, thankful for the chance to watch my mom be a grandmother because it is the best thing ever, thankful for my wife, thankful for wine, thankful for my four-year-old whose heart is as big as his appetite, thankful for you.
Usually I remain voiceless here, just enjoying your writing and recipes. I have some anger left; yes, I admit it. I don’t see it leaving me anytime over the next, say, four years. I’m thankful that tomorrow I can go canvas for Foster Campbell, the last long-shot we have for one more Democrat in the Senate. I’m grateful I live in a blindingly blue city, unfortunately surrounded by blood red. I’m thankful despite the sea of red, we still elected a Democrat for governor last year. I’m grateful I still have hope – and that you’re still putting up posts, sharing recipes to calm me. Thanks. We’ll get it right next time. Yes?
I’m thankful for this blog and your writing! And to not be hungry or in poor health. I’m thankful for all the brave people who continue to speak out for those struggling to be heard, teaching me what I can do to helped though at the moment I feel downright useless. And I’m thankful for my cat. Watching her sleeping at the foot of my bed when I wake up in the am is the only thing making this month bearable.
Hi Tim! Just back from my trip to the western suburbs for Thanksgiving, so I finally got a chance to read this, and it transported me right back! Haha. I’m so thankful for my family there, even if we did all get the flu and my mom’s house was a total barf-o-rama all weekend. To family! xx
they talk about the 8 stages of grief but I think my shock alone had about 10 stages.
eyes rolling to back of head
good ol’ sobbing
I don’t care if it’s a ‘dirty word’ now, this blog is a SAFE SPACE and I need it