A Sylvia Plath Thanksgiving?

For some reason, I feel like I've known about Sylvia Plath since I was born. That probably says something about my upbringing, or at least the influence on my life of my older sister. I also feel like I've known the words to the songs on "Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Heart Club Band" since I was born. That would be my parents, formerly known as hippies.
About Sylvia, though: I find her really depressing, and not something that I'd pass on as great poetry/literature (mostly because she--and her most famous heroine, Esther Greenwood---are soooo depressing), but I will admit that she appealed to me during my teenage years. In any case, one line of her poetry (actually introduced by Emcee) has stayed with me. It's from her poem, Tulips:

The water I taste is warm and salt, like the sea,

 And comes from a country as far away as health.

Now, what does this have to do with Thanksgiving, you say? The stomach flu. On Thanksgiving. One of the cruelest hands dealt to me, because the whole point of the holiday is to eat. Now, Providentially, I had anticipated my limitations this holiday, as far as hostessing, etc., and had ordered the entire meal from Wegmans. So, we were not that put out, although poor (Type-A) David studied and studied the instructions sheet and was in the kitchen for 4 hours, reheating the pre-cooked meal. But, I felt pretty lousy all day, and went to bed early. And all day, on Thanksgiving Day, 2010, health was as far away as a distant country.