Another Thanksgiving Passed

Another Thanksgiving passed.


Thanksgiving has never really been anything more than a marker for me, a telling of the season and a day off, but I appreciate the sentiment. I have a lot to be thankful for.

Mom had an always welcome Thanksgiving spot with Aunt Lib and the godsend that is our family, my Sis and the boys had their place with her guy Buck and his daughter, and with a Raspberry in tow I’m sure, the sweetest of Golden’s you’ll ever come to pet, my brother worked another holiday, as he always does, hardest working guy I’ve ever known, never turning down that extra day, his solo similar to mine, just with a way more fruitful paycheck, while I begged out of the get together just a step step step down the stairs with Celie and her gang. No one needed to hang with my sweatspanted, unshowered ass at a nicely set dining room table anyway, believe me.

Though it was a great meal missed, Celie is pretty damn good at that cooking thing, I have no qualms opting for quiet instead, whenever I can these days, even at the cost of a good meal or, well, for any reason really, some of which I just invent anticipating this quiet, me and Bella and the Unintentionals. Celie and said gang understand me at this point I think, two years in now, which is something not all of us have and is the nicest of feelings. But I do do a part around here which helps the understanding and adds to that nicest of feelings.

I was also able to justify the not my family together Thanksgiving with the thought of the get together eventually at Christmas. That one I’m definitely looking forward to.

I sat and wrote, mostly words just for myself, while I did the aforementioned quiet sitting. I wrote open ended things that I promised myself I’d return to, some of which are shit, well, most of which are shit actually but still with a few nuggets of promise and I edited past things after realizing with a fresh look that they needed to be edited (“Jesus dude, how did you miss that” or “what the hell were you thinkin’?”) even if they are so far down the scroll of my blog posts that no one will ever notice. I fed cats (always the Friskies turkey and cheese at this time of year) and I kicked back with the comfort of the fooded scents and happy warm noise, drifting their way up from below my feet, of family … along with the sounds of the extended one of dogs and cats … and a bird.

I am the luckiest of guys in this regard and it’s the perfect happy medium. A wonderful family within arm’s reach, a looked forward to hello and genuine conversation in the mornings and the evenings with a good friend, a boatload of welcoming fur but all with a retreat, just up the steps, that is mine, mine alone. Does that sound maybe a bit selfish? Sure. Do I care? Not really.

There’s a lot of stuff I could complain about though it would be too easy and it would diminish what I have to do so. No. I’m a lucky guy. Period.

(by the way, I can edit that “period” right? … ya know, just in case. In the future?)

Cheers all, as always.

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