Holiday Spirit Blogfest - Please join us! Total Eclipse of the Sun at Palm Cove.

Memoir, Fiction, Recipes, Traditions...and more

How are the holidays celebrated at your home? The blogsphere includes a multitude of countries, cultures, and citizenry of the world. There are as many ways to celebrate as there are cultures -- Thanksgiving, Christmas, Yom Kipper, Hanuka or any variety of holidays of the “giving spirit” during the same season.

In my home we celebrate Christmas as do most Australians. It is an annual celebration to mark Christ's birth (we are well aware this is not the actual time He was born), to celebrate the summer holidays, to celebrate our families and friends who may fly many kilometres to join together again, to just relax by the beach or the pool and read a book (in between eating, drinking and sharing gifts), forgetting about the demands of work -- just for a few days or weeks..

For this Holiday Spirit blogfest (open to the whole blogosphere as are all RFW blogfests), RFW is looking for excerpts of up to 800 words of fiction or non-fiction stories of family tradition, favorite/unique recipes, inspirational articles, etc.; that involve the essence of the holiday spirit.  (Recipes and news articles do not have to adhere to the 800 word limit.) In other words, we would like you to post whatever passes for the Holiday Spirit in your neck of the world. Maybe you would like to post pictures of your decorated home!

Because of the special nature of this Holiday Spirit blogfest, we are allowing up to two submissions; however, they must be in two separate categories. Meaning, you could post your favorite recipe AND an inspirational 800 word excerpt; or a link to an inspirational news/magazine article and a recipe or true story; but not two of each (two recipes, two memoir posts, two articles). If you are posting two separate submissions, please add your blog link twice and add to your name/link what it contains - eg - Donna Hole, 1, Recipe, so participants know to look for two separate posts.

The linky will open on December 12 and remain open thru December 21 to encourage linking to the direct post. However, if you decide to link then schedule a post (or two) later, just leave a comment to let everyone know when your excerpt will be available. The RFW hosts will be checking the comments and links, and if a direct link is available, we will edit your link(s) if you haven't done so. (RFW uses Inlinkz which allows you to delete your own link and add a new one.)

Please join us in celebrating life, love, presents, good food, and of course Family Traditions of all types within diverse cultures.

This is not a competition - it is a sharing. We hope we'll all get to know each other better!

Happy Holidays everyone; and best wishes for your NaNoWriMo projects. Let us know how you go.

Total Eclipse of the Sun (love that song, but we had the real thing yesterday.) Palm Cove, north of Cairns in Northern Queensland, was the best spot in the world to see it, and thousands of people arrived from all over the world to this usually empty stretch of beach to gaze at nature's wonder. Many weddings and engagements took place.

They came from all over the world to experience the total eclipse which was awesome!

Go here to experience glorious professional pictures of the eclipse which shows the wonder of it.

• Do you know a holiday celebration that is not mentioned above? Please share in the comments.
• Are you going to join us for this blogfest? The more the merrier.
• If you're doing NaNo, how is it going? The halfway mark - 25,000 words yet? I'm lagging a bit...
• Please watch for the linky announcement on December 12.

Family secrets revealed at Thanksgiving dinner. My story for Erica's BlogFeast.

Erica at Hypothetically Speaking is having a Thanksgiving BlogFeast. To read/join go here. It is open until Dec 7th, so polish up your Thanksgiving stories as this is a writing contest with PRIZES! You have to write a fictional story of 1500 words or less on the theme of Thanksgiving and family secrets. You also need a recipe. The recipe is for food. I stretched it to a drink as cranberries are a food, right?

My NaNo WIP is set in Nantucket as you would know if you read my post about google research. I was hoping I could write a scene for it. I did and it just didn't rock my boat, so I polished up one of my stories that's been in a dusty corner of Word waiting to shine at the right time. I hope it does shine as I'd like to get my hands on one of Erica's prizes.

So here it is, my entry in the Thanksgiving BlogFeast (with recipe for a slammer):

FAMILY SECRETS AND THANKSGIVING

MARGO

Every Thanksgiving it gets worse, the missing so much more painful. From the moment I held his chubby little fingers, tenderly undressed him and marvelled at his perfectly formed body, I was in love. This feeling has never left me; it is as strong today as it was 23 years ago on this very day. Despite my overwhelming feelings of love and adoration for my precious newborn, he was cruelly taken from me. I was told I was too young to bring up a baby. I couldn’t keep him, but I got to keep the pain. It’s always there, a catch in my heart. Having a lovely husband and two beautiful teenagers doesn’t take away the pain.


RAFE

I know she is remembering her baby boy. If only it was in my power to help. God knows I’ve tried so hard, done everything I could, followed all the advice I’ve been given, but I’ve come up empty. I love her so, but I know she can never be completely whole. She was scarred by losing her little one a couple of years before I arrived on the scene. There is always a sadness about her, even when she is in the lightest of moods. Our two children sense, rather than know, that there was some sad event in her past, but Margo has never shared the real reason for her sorrow with them. I hope she will share it one day soon. I believe it’d make us closer as a family but she says she’s afraid they’ll judge her.

ABBY


Mum’s got that faraway look in her eye again. She does this every Thanksgiving. I feel really angry when it happens, but she assures me it’s nothing to do with anything I’ve done. I still wish she’d realise that I’m a big girl now. God I’m nearly 20. Maybe I could help her if only she’d tell me what was wrong, instead of shutting me out. We’re so close in every other way, but it is maddening that she is so obviously keeping something important from us kids. I know dad knows what it is, as he looks so worried every time she gets this sad look in her eye. If only she knew how often Julian and I talk about it, wonder about it. We love her but she shuts us out.

JULIAN

Oh boy, mum’s at it again. When will she get over whatever it is she’s moping about? Abby and I have tried but it’s a no-go zone. It’s probably not a good time to tell her I’ve invited this guy for dinner. Found him hanging about near the pier. Foxy took a great shine to him, so he can’t be too bad. They say dogs are great judges of character and Foxy was all over him. He said he had nowhere to go for Thanksgiving. I can’t get my head around that. Fancy having no family to share such a special day. He should be here soon. God, I keep putting this off. There’s no good time really, not when mum’s like this. I’d better ‘fess up before…



The doorbell chimes. Everyone looks at each other. Who would be ringing the doorbell on Thanksgiving, especially at dinner time?


‘Er, mum, I, uh, I invited…’ Julian began.


‘You invited? You invited someone to Thanksgiving dinner and didn’t ask me first? Julian, you do some frustrating things but this is the worst! Today of all days!’


‘Calm down now darling,’ Rafe is by her side in an instant, smoothing things over as always. ‘Julian would have his reasons, eh son?’

Julian is glad to be the centre of attention. ‘Well, mom, this guy was sitting shivering on the town pier this morning when I took Foxy for a walk. He looked so lonely and I just asked whether he’d like to share Thanksgiving dinner. No biggie is it? Thanksgiving is for sharing, or so you’re always telling us.’

The bell rings again, its shrill sound adding to the tension in the room.

‘We’ll talk later Julian. For now, Abby, set another place please. I’m in the kitchen. Julian, go let your guest in.’

In walks Benoit. He shuffles self-consciously, eyes darting round, til finally they fix on the bright red tiles at his feet. He is dressed in jeans and a windbreaker. He looks frozen.


‘Hey Dad, sis, this is Benoit, er…sorry, don’t know your surname,’ Julian mumbles.


‘Marion,’ Benoit replies, teeth chattering.


‘Come stand by the fire, Benoit,’ Rafe offers.
‘Benoit Marion?’ asks Rafe, leading him to the warmth, ‘are you French?’


‘French-Canadian. I’m from Montréal. Québec.’ He looks around, his blond curly hair jerking around his shoulders.

‘You don’t look French, or French-Canadian, Benoit. You look like an Aussie surfer with all that blond hair and suntan,’ Abby says, sizing him up.

‘I was over in Oz for a few months. Hardly out of the water.’

‘Ah, that explains it then,’ says Rafe. ‘Australia is a long way from Nantucket. What brings you here?’

‘I came here once for a summer holiday with my folks. I always remembered it. It looks a bit different in November, but it’s been good checking out the old haunts.’

‘So where are your folks now?’ Rafe asks.


Benoit tears up. ‘They were killed in a car accident while I was in Oz,’ he says quietly. ‘That’s what brought me back. I was planning to stay in Oz and work for a couple of years and hopefully stay there.’


'Any particular reason you chose Australia?’ asks Julian. ‘My mum is Australian, but Abby and I have never been there. Mum came over here on some teacher exchange to Canada. Met dad and they ended up here teaching on Nantucket.’


‘Well, I was adopted when I was a baby.’ Benoit was looking a little less frozen. ‘I’ve been tracing my mother and apparently she is Australian. I’d only just got started on my search when I had to come back to Montréal when...uh...my parents passed.’


‘Tough all round Benoit.’ Rafe cleared his throat.


‘Hey!’ Julian yelled. ‘I’m starving! Can we eat and talk? You must be starving Benoit.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Rafe. ‘Please come through to the dining room Benoit. Margo is just putting the finishing touches to dinner.’


'Margot? Would you believe that’s my birth mother’s name?’


Rafe stood still. He felt a tingle up his spine.

‘You all right, Dad?’ asked Abby, concerned at her father’s pale face.

‘Yes, I’m fine Abby. Let’s go, shall we?’

Benoit thought the table looked amazing with its snowy white napkins, silverware, bowls of flowers and nuts, but what impressed him most were the smells coming from the kitchen. It’d been a long time since he’d smelt real home cooking.

Margo appeared at the dining room door, face flushed, curls awry, carrying the roast turkey.

She saw the stranger standing there, but some instinct told her this was no stranger. She stumbled, the turkey teetered on its tray. Benoit rushed to help, just as Margot bent over.


Their heads bumped together.


Rafe, Abby and Julian looked on, amazed. The two heads were an identical shape. The curly blond hair was stunningly similar.


Margot and Benoit stood up slowly, holding the Thanksgiving turkey between them, apologising to each other. They looked into each other’s eyes. They each saw a startling blue with long dark lashes.

Rafe looked from one to the other. He was speechless. The kids were puzzled.


Everyone knew there was some mystery in the room.


‘So Benoit,’ Rafe asked carefully, clearing his throat, ‘have you always lived in Montréal?’


‘No sir. I was born in Australia.’


‘Really?’ Margot’s voice sounded like she was talking underwater.


‘So how did you end up in Montréal?’ Abby asked.


‘Mom and dad told me I spent the first month of my life in a Sydney hospital. I was put up for adoption. They chose me, then took me to live in Montréal for dad’s work. They never went back to Oz.’

‘When is your birthday, Benoit?’ Margot knew Benoit’s next words would probably change her life forever. Her heart was jumping around in her chest and she had strange flutterings in her throat.


‘Actually, today. I was born on Thanksgiving Day in 1987. In Sydney. Today happens to be the exact date again. The fourth Thursday in November, the 26th.’


‘Margot reached for Benoit but fell into a chair. Rafe bent down and hugged her. Benoit, Julian and Abby looked on, only half understanding what was happening.


Julian turned to Benoit, ‘Hey man, looks like you’re our family’s secret.’


‘Son,’ said a teary Rafe to a weepy Benoit, ‘you’ve come home.’


Rafe, Julian and Abby watched in wonder as mother and son embraced. Rafe knew they would never be parted again.

‘This calls for a celebration!’ shouted Rafe. ‘Julian, mix some of those Thanksgiving’s a Breeze Seabreezes. Even you and Abby can have a sip. There’ll never be a Thanksgiving to top this one!

THE END

©DeniseCovey 2010

Thanksgiving's a Breeze Seabreezes

Ingredients


1 cup orange juice
1 cup cranberry juice
1 cup vodka
Mint sprigs, for garnish


Directions


Mix all in a chilled pitcher filled with ice. Pour into chilled glasses and garnish with mint. If desired, place a dollop of leftover cranberry sauce in the bottom of each glass before filling with Seabreeze mixture.




Recipe courtesy Michael Chiarello and Food Network.com

• In Australia the legal drinking age is 18 years. That's why I was careful to say the kids could only have a sip.
• The kids are using 'mum' not 'mom' as Margot, being Australian, wants this form of address. Benoit uses 'mom' because his adoptive parents encouraged him to use it as they intending always living in Canada. My google research says Canadians use either 'mom' or 'mum'???

Now click on the above link to read some other entries or to submit your own.

Early-bird Thanksgiving blogfest. I'm thankful for the mundane things in life, are you?

Thanks to Jeffrey Beesler's World of the Scribe for hosting the Thankful blogfest to celebrate American Thanksgiving. Hey I'm no American, we don't celebrate Thanksgiving, but I'm muscling in anyhow.

Jeffrey has just passed his milestone 100 followers. Go check out his blog. He posts nearly every day so there's always something happening over there! Slow down Jeffrey, we can't keep up!


Jeffrey set wide paremeters for this blogfest - it can be a list of 10 things we're thankful for, an essay...whatever, as long as it shows we're thankful.


I've been watching Kevin McCloud's series on the slums of India. It made me very thankful to live in Australia where I don't have to share my home of a few square metres with 25 others, where I have a flushing toilet or two, and I don't have to work long days in crushing heat for a few measly bucks...but I must say the Indians looked very happy in their situation and the children heading off to school looked spruce and shining, much more so than Aussie kids who have their own ensuites. Go figure...(as my American friends would say.)


As I don't have much time, being 17,000 short of my NaNo goal, I decided to do a quick photo essay on the mundane things of life (which are really what life is all about...)

 I Am Thankful for...

...the teenager who is is watching TV when he should be doing the dishes, because that means he is at home and not on the streets.

...the mess to clean after a party, because it means that I have been surrounded by friends.

...the clothes that fit a little too snug, because it means I have enough to eat (even if a little too much at times.)

...my shadow that watches me work, because it means I am out in the sunshine not in some pokey office.

...a lawn that needs mowing, windows that need cleaning, and gutters that need fixing, because it means I have a home.

...all the complaining I hear about the government, because it means that we have freedom of speech - yay, Save those Whales! It's on again in the Great Southern Ocean... check out seashepherd.org.

...the parking spot I find at the far end of the parking lot, because it means I am capable of walking, and that I have been blessed with spunky wheels.

...the pile of laundry and ironing, because it means I have clothes to wear (even if they're a tad crinkly these days.)

...weariness and aching muscles at the end of the day, (not to mention carpel syndrome and RSI) because it means I have been capable of working hard.

...the alarm clock that goes off in the early morning hours, because it means that I am alive and hopefully afire for another day's writing.

and finally....

...for living in Australia because in so many ways we really are the 'lucky' country (and I don't have to cook a Thanksgiving dinner.)

Thank you Jeffrey. I will remember to be thankful every day of my life.

Happy Thanksgiving my American blogging friends! *pumps air*