Ah, Thanksgiving . . .
I’m en route to a smallish affair, at home. Except for driving down the road a piece to pick up my grandmother, I’ll not have to drive alongside hooligans in the snow. For that, I’m grateful.
This year I’ll be trying my hand at a new pumpkin pie recipe: maple pumpkin pie with salted pecan brittle. Me + a new recipe is always iffy (I like to live on the edge); but thanks to a freezer of vodka, my pie crust has a fighting chance. For that, I’m grateful.
Sure, my family is spread far and wide–but I’ve each of them tucked close within my heart. For that, I’m grateful.
I rather rudely turned down a lovely invitation to dinner. That means I’ve an afternoon/evening all to myself (a precious commodity as of late). I intend to fill the hours with the good stuff: a nap, flannel PJs, leftovers, and an old holiday film. For that, I’m grateful.
For the record, my home office remains in disarray. I’m sure there will be several hours over the long weekend wherein I’ll be trying to find some semblance of normalcy–at least to get us through the holidays. Nonetheless, an unplugged computer has garnered a few extra days off. And you continue to be so very faithful in your visits. For that, I’m grateful.
Come to think of it, my heart is positively overflowing with gratitude. Big things and small things, family and friends, they’re all present and accounted for . . .
So while some may argue Thanksgiving is getting too watered down, I counter with, “and yet the holiday remains.” In that, I say we have the power to make it as we please. To start, I’m inviting all of you to the party — be you here or there, national proclamation, or no. Let’s put put on our party hats; let’s set the stage with thankfulness, and make it something grand.
Happy Thanksgiving, my friends!