My husband always laughs at how around the house, I have two speeds: hummingbird and sloth.
I'm either stock-still in front of the computer, mesmerized by whatever I'm reading or writing . . . or deadline-driven, dashing around with laser precision, getting done what needs to get done.
On this day, the calm before the storm, I hope to adjust my tuning to somewhere in between. To a rational exuberance of preparation. A stop-and-smell-the-roses level of appreciation for all I should be thankful for.
Family's coming, and I love when the house is full. Aunts and uncles, grandparents and kids, and cousins and their dates, all jumbled up in our cozy house.
There's the carb-a-rama that is our Thanksgiving fare. (And the cheese! Don't forget all the cheese!)
The family stories that result from all those people working together, fueled by wine and beer. . . I mean, who knew my mom had a favorite Native American in Sacagawea? Or that horses roamed the Internet? It wasn't until a Thanksgiving that I really knew.
So for this Thanksgiving, a toast to discovery and thanks: for the new world, for our old friends, and for our lovely families.
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