Between bites of truffle-butter basted turkey and white chocolate pumpkin cheesecake with gingersnap crust...

... I managed to spend some more time with Shara.





Who typically goes to bed with a less-than-full belly.

The irony of Thanksgiving. We had over a dozen assorted friends and family join our own little army this week to celebrate our Recession Thanksgiving. I instructed everyone to come with a contribution, swearing I would provide nothing more than the aforementioned turkey with dressing and our traditional Thanksgiving crowd-pleasing dessert.

But of course the youngest likkle empress wore me down, pleading with me not to forgo the puff-pastry-baked brie with pecans and brown sugar. And the herb-&-white-wine steamed mussels, mommy, we always have those when we have a party. And with your homemade bread, of course. And we don't want to risk having to use cranberry sauce from a can, make that fresh, too! And you can't have Thanksgiving without mashed potatoes, mommy.

So when guests arrived bearing platefuls of shrimp cocktail with marinated olives, piping hot Brussell sprouts with okra, steaming vegetable pierogis with sour cream, 4 lbs of jumbo shrimp (ready for the King to curry), three-berry crumble pie, home-made corn muffins and chocolate chip cookies, plus the show-stopping holiday pudding in an enormous 2-foot tall martini glass -- well there wasn't any room left on the table.

Grandma had provided stacks of beautiful holiday-themed napkins, several bottles of wine, vodka and grapefruit juice (of course), dear Marlie threw in a South American twist by bringing ingredients for caiparinha cocktails (Cachaca and limes), while the bredren from the Bahamas came laden with Guinness. The special occasion permitted the purchase of a couple of litres of Root Beer for the 7 pickney in attendance to drown their sorrows, down to the last drop. Everybody belly full.

After such a bounty of good food, good friends, good family and another lovely evening of great vibes -- it was almost painful to return to Shara's face the next morning. You can tell by the look on her face that such a feast has only existed for her in her imagination.

We do what we can for Shara and family, harder now when times are tough up here but probably needed more than ever in the yard. When I finish this painting of Shara, I'll put it up for sale here with all proceeds going directly down to her and her family in Jamaica.

Giving thanks.

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