Thursday, December 14, 2006

Reflections of the Cranberry

My son always insists that he will like one, but inevitably makes the sour face upon trying it anew.

My husband's grandmother serves cranberry sauce from a can. It makes the distinct sucking noise when coming out of the can and then sits on a pretty plate at the Thanksgiving table proudly displaying the ring indentations marking its former can-bound life.

My mother fills glass jars with them to support white candles. A pretty Christmas scene.

I unknowingly tortured unexpecting guests by omitting the sugar in my attempts at cranberry sauce. Opps.

And here they sit. Some in a loaf of bread, some rolling around the counter, some cut in half to show off their pretty bellies. All are excited for their photo shoot.

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