Salt and a Potato

Salt and Potato

I am thankful today for salt and a potato.

Specifically, the salt and potato my sister and I traded a half-block from each of our houses, meeting halfway this morning before one of us (I’m not saying which one) had even had a shower, a while after my husband had woken up early to chop things and a while after her children had woken up early because they are one and three years old.

She needed a potato, we needed salt.

We are celebrating small today, Phil and I, and this morning has been spent in a mix of simmering beef stock, brewing coffee, meowing cats and music on the iPod. Tomorrow is the bigger mixed-family celebrations – actually a belated birthday party for my nephew (the one who just turned three).

Meg’s query about potatoes came via text message on my smart phone, but that didn’t change the fact that each of us pulled on shoes, opened our back doors and stepped out into a somewhat chilly, somewhat cloudy late fall day to walk our ingredients over.

So I am thankful for salt and a potato.

And I am thankful for my husband, who likes to get up early and chop things.

I am thankful for my sister and that she lives less than a block away with her husband (who also likes to get up early and chop things) and thankful for my niece and nephew, for being able to see them so often and so easily, for afternoons they stop by while they’re out walking and I join them; thankful for my next-door neighbor who gives my nephew Tootsie rolls and rolls my trash and recycling cans back up my driveway after they’re emptied in the mornings.

I’m thankful for our little house in a neighborhood that’s still a neighborhood, in a quiet, mid-20th-century part of Roanoke with trees and backyards.

I’m thankful for the view of the mountains from the end of the block.

I’m thankful for the little church at the top of the hill that we all can walk to on Sundays, for the people and the fellowship and the music there.

I’m thankful for the fall leaves in the backyard, for cranberry sauce, stuffing, mince pie and turkey. I’m thankful that my parents are only a two-hour drive up the valley, and that my sister is only a two-minute walk around the block.

I am thankful for salt and a potato.

Our Facebook fans shared with us what they are thankful for – click here to read and share your own.

You Might Also Like:

21.11_DW_Christmas-43

Festive Fun in the Mountains

We receive and confirm information on each event.
This is a landscape photograph of the night sky with the Milky Way over rural Bryson City during summer in the Great Smoky Mountains North Carolina.

Skywatch: November/December 2026

Have You Seen the “Great Big Dipper?”
Grand Bohemian Lodge Asheville - Lobby

7 Wondrous Resort-Style Winter Stays

These action-packed mountain escapes will help you celebrate the season and recharge.
Snowshoe Mountain Resort

How the South Skis

The Rise of the Modern Mid-Atlantic Resort
2026 Best of the Mountains contest

2026 Best of the Mountains Winners

The results are in, and our readers have spoken!
80b30614-90ad-11ef-bc8f-12163087a831-IMG_9083

Book Note: Rednecks

by Taylor Brown. St. Martin’s Press, 2024. 310 pp.
Ben Montgomery. Chicago Review Press. 2015. 266 pp.

Book Note: Grandma Gatewood’s Walk

by Ben Montgomery. Chicago Review Press. 2015. 266 pp.
Ron Rash. The Caretaker. Doubleday, 2023. 252pp.

Book Note: The Caretaker

by Ron Rash. Doubleday, 2023. 252pp.
Jeremy B. Jones. Bearwallow: A Personal History of a Mountain Homeland. (Blair, 2014). 253 pp.

Book Note – Bearwallow: A Personal History of a Mountain Homeland

by Jeremy B. Jones. (Blair, 2014). 253 pp.
Kami Ahrens, editor. The Foxfire Book of Appalachian Women: Stories of Landscape and Community in the Mountain South. (University of North Carolina Press, 2023). 268 pp.

Book Note – The Foxfire Book of Appalachian Women: Stories of Landscape and Community in the Mountain South

edited by Kami Ahrens. (University of North Carolina Press, 2023). 268 pp.