It’s 6 a.m., and I’ve been in the kitchen for an hour, excited as a child on the morning of a fishing trip. The sweet little yellow crookneck squash I found at Bailey’s Farmer’s Market yesterday have been chopped, and are bubbling away in boiling water. Coffee’s on, National Public Radio is murmuring comfortably on the counter, and I’m about to saute’ onions for the squash casserole.
It’s Thanksgiving, my favorite morning of the year.
Watch out for flying words, splashing out of the mixing bowl of my brain!