Amy M. Schaefer
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From the Front Porch

I am an "accidental blogger". When I launched my writing career in March of 2014, one of the things that I decided to include was my journaling, which I have always found to be a comforting and therapeutic endeavor.  It was a big risk to open myself up in such a public forum, but it has taught me that, for the most part, we share far more experiences than we think. It's comforting to know I'm not alone!  (*the "Button Text" is the link to my first novel)
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This is Not Your Norman Rockwell

11/23/2015

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Picture
From the cover of The Saturday Evening Post, 1923
Thanksgiving is such an odd holiday. Don't get me wrong, any holiday that includes sweet potato pie (...which I totally prefer over pumpkin) is fine by me, but what, exactly are we celebrating? The beginning of the near annihilation of the Native Americans? Gluttony brought to the brink of being catatonic? The opening of the most greedy, shamelessly exploited examples of capitalization in the modern era, as "Black Friday" (...which has apparently been moved to Thursday this year) is launched in industrialized nations around the world? None of these things put me in a festive mood. In order to do that, I have to give myself a serious mental shake, turn off the TV, and shift my focus towards what my father would call more pagan rituals for this time of year.

Harvest festivals have been held in many cultures around the world for thousands of years. One common theme is the celebration of the end of the growing season, a thankfulness for the bounty of the harvest, and a time to enjoy a meal (often accompanied by dancing) with close friends and family. This, to me, sounds like a GREAT idea...in theory. It doesn't, however, always work out that way. I don't know about any of you, but for me the Thanksgivings I remember from my past weren't always cause for celebration. And try as I might, I don't recall a single one ever fitting the ideal shown in Mr. Rockwell's picture above.

As a child, this time of year was extremely stressful, especially being shuffled around between sides of the family after my parents divorce. Later, when I added my significant other, Thanksgiving became a day I dreaded with a passion. The traffic was a nightmare and after going to visit family all over, by the end of the night I was exhausted and wanted to puke from over-eating. When we started our own family, I put the kibash on "traditions" that made me want to hide in a closet until New Years. We began to shape our holidays after happy things we remembered and new things we added as our girls got older. One lesson I've learned from all of those non-Rockwell-like holidays of the past is to take that beast in hand and make it your own...do only the things that make you happy, go only the places where you know you're truly welcome, and don't let anything trample on a time of year that is supposed to be about fellowship and love. Oh, and have a slice of sweet potato pie!

Here's a link with some great information on Harvest Festivals....

http://www.onegreenplanet.org/uncategorized/ten-amazing-harvest-festivals-from-around-the-world/

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    About The Author

    I grew up in rural North Carolina. When I was only nineteen, I moved away and became a military wife. My only aspiration at that tender time in my life was to create an adult life that "fixed" all of the "injustices" of my childhood. Secretly, however, I wanted to reach for the sky! I wanted to be a writer and find ways to "save the world" (my mother used to say, "You have Save the World Syndrome".). Mostly, I wanted to matter.

    Since then, I have learned to reach well beyond what I ever dared to think was possible. I've learned not to allow fear to stop me from whatever future I want to create!

    What keeps me grounded? My Tribe! What provides the wind beneath my wings? A well of reserves filled with unstoppable passion!

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  • Amy M. Schaefer, Writer
  • Blog: From the Front Porch
  • Novels
  • Short Stories
    • Children's Books
  • About the Author
  • Contact
  • Photo & Art Gallery