Think About It. Neatness and Order. For as long as I can remember, I have had a penchant for it (or them). Mary laughed when I first said that, after which I acknowledged my desire for an orderly life (or desk for that matter) has not been matched by my personal practice. Wouldn’t we all like ”a place for everything and everything in its place”? Even the search for the source of that phrase is fraught with frail hints centuries apart. One questionable clue was the Eighteen Maxims of Neatness and Order, by Theresa Tidy, perhaps penned by Elizabeth Susannah Simmonds before 1923 more or less, maybe.
Somehow, suddenly Thanksgiving day comes to mind. Perhaps it’s because it’s currently celebrated the 4th Thursday of November. I say currently because its official observance has changed from time to time by custom or executive order. Admittedly, unlike the present Presidential pardon of at least one bird, it did escape the edict of President LBJ in 1971 when he moved a few federal holidays to Monday but apparently spared our favorite family feast.
Much ado has been made about our “fine feathered friends” (The Weaver family is Cherokee.) providing corn and such for the first day of thanks for not starving. Boston Post columnist (the otherwise anonymous “Observant Citizen”) cites the first celebration as February 21, 1621. Seems the same pilgrims who had made such a splash on Plymouth Rock were saved from starvation by the arrival of providential provisions. No mention was made that they were from Dublin. You see the Irish were not welcome refugees at the time.
Now, as then, the world is in massive disarray. Seems most people would rather be someplace other than where they are today. As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, they would like to escape poverty, tyranny, war, bigotry and hunger, while seeking health, wealth and at least opportunity. Seems most of the world thinks we have it here, excepting our neighbors to the south who seem to come and go with ease as opportunities ebb and flow.
Whether this traditional harvest festival comes unseasonably late or not, it surely is a good idea to arrest the “restless leg syndrome” for a day, stop wishing and hoping for more, and recognize our relative good fortune to be alive in this place at this time. So sit down, eat up, sleep off the tryptophan-laden turkey. Let your dreams join our restless spirits as we now escape the atmosphere’s dynamic tension and reach into what we once called “outer space” where we will surely find more opportunity to wish for more Neatness and Order. Think About It.
Regarding the menacing bird above. You may remember the ironic headlines one year ago TURKEY SHOOTS DOWN RUSSIAN PLANE.