Gratitude list 2010

I'm not sure if Megan plans to continue the tradition of placing Indian corn kernels symbolizing our blessings into a special dish on the holiday dinner table, but whether actual or just in my heart, these are the kernels I offer up, the blessings for which I give thanks this Thanksgiving:

Bubby is healthy.

Everyone in my immediate family is healthy.

Those in my extended family -- those who have suffered everything from stumbles off the wagon to unemployment to limb amputations and more -- are surviving, doing the best they can.

Brianna's ability to purchase a home of her own.

The opening of an awesome career door for Andrea.

A new baby on the way.

The sweet and silly mom, dad and big brother creating a loving home for that new baby.

Friends ... who play my games, drink my pomegranate margaritas, love my dogs.

Other friends ... who may not love my dogs so much, yet are some of my favorite people in the world.

My sister who loves my dogs and will be spoiling them while I'm away for the holiday.

My other sisters. And my brothers. And my mom. And my dad. The only people who know and understand where I came from.

Health insurance.

Netflix instant streaming through the Wii.

Wi-fi.

Skype and other technology that minimizes the distance between myself and my grandson and my daughter.

A bank account that, surprisingly, has not yet hit a zero balance.

My agent ... my real, live agent who steadfastly believes I have something to offer ... and steadfastly works without pay under the belief the pay will eventually come ... once the book contracts come.

Cheap airline flights from the mountains to the desert.

Amazon Prime.

Progressive lens bi-focals.

Clairol Nice-N-Easy.

L'Oreal face cream ... Alpha Hydroxy face cream ... Arbonne face cream, eye cream, night/day facial serum.

My beautiful home that creaks and groans and sometimes scares me but that always warms my heart. Especially when the wood floors have just been shined.

Deer, fox, squirrels and birds that make my neighborhood a more interesting -- and photogenic -- place to live.

Harness leashes that make it possible for me to walk my dogs despite the deer, fox, squirrels and birds that often cross our path and entice Mickey to bolt.

Colorado weather.

That Granny's dementia keeps her from realizing how compromised her life has become.

Jim's sister who selflessly tends to Granny.

Books -- lots and lots of books that arrive at my door in a steady stream.

Readers who help me read and review many of those books.

Readers who comment.

Readers who don't comment.

Readers who keep coming back, who make me feel like what I write matters.

Children and grandchildren who underscore that everything else that I do -- and have done -- matters.

A husband who encourages me, supports me, and continually dangles in front of me the carrot of hope that awesome things truly are going to come our way.

Yes, indeed, I'm thankful that this past year has proved me to be healthy, wealthy and wise. At least healthier than some, wealthier than many, and wise enough to be grateful for both.

Photo credit: Royalty-free/Corbis

Today's question:

What are you grateful for this Thanksgiving?

Weevils, the heads, and turkey days past

It's one week until Thanksgiving Day, and I can't wait.

This will be the first Thanksgiving that one of my daughters will host the affair. Jim, Brianna, Andrea and I are headed to Megan's for the big day, to include the community turkey trot (the girls are trotting; I'm watching), time with Bubby, and Thanksgiving dinner together as a family.

I'm excited to add this "first" to the collection of Thanksgiving memories that have been rumbling 'round my head and heart the last couple days. Things like ...

Thanksgivings early on as a family, when the girls and Jim and I had to eat two turkey dinners in the same day to accommodate holiday visits to both parents -- both my parents, not my in-laws.

Thanksgiving in South Dakota with the Indians. Real Indians from the reservation, who were friends of Jim's sister and brother-in-law, our hosts. The weekend included horseback rides for the girls, silly nephews pitching olives during the meal and the obligatory visit to "The Heads" (Mount Rushmore, for the uninitiated).

Another Thanksgiving in South Dakota, another visit to "The Heads." The time Granny reserved a room at her church to accommodate her many visiting relatives. Just before the meal, she realized she'd forgotten to make potatoes and cheerfully announced she could throw together instant potatoes she had at home. "My husband will NOT be eating instant mashed potatoes for Thanksgiving," snarled one of Jim's sisters. The sister who eventually left her husband -- for her daughter's ex-boyfriend. The husband who eventually died -- from complications of a broken heart.

Once again: Thanksgiving in South Dakota. The year Megan and Andie wrecked their car on the way home from college. So we drove two cars to South Dakota -- Brianna and my mom in one; Jim, Megan, Andie and I in the other -- so that after the festivities (and, of course, a visit to "The Heads") Jim and I could take the girls back to college. We drove from the Black Hills of South Dakota to the east side of Nebraska to drop off the girls, then home to Colorado ... driving straight through. It was our first introduction to Red Bull and Monster energy drinks -- and the last time we'll ever drive that many miles without sleep.

The long-standing tradition of spreading Indian-corn kernels on the Thanksgiving dinner table, with everyone invited to place kernels symbolizing their personal blessings in the special "gratitude" dish at any time during the meal. The tradition I can never explain to guests because I get all verklempt thinking of my many, many blessings. Thankfully one of the girls always steps in and explains it for me -- another blessing that increases my verklempt state. Every time.

The first Thanksgiving I hosted at my house for all the extended family, including my older sister and her husband, whom I wanted desperately to impress. Naturally it would be the year that when I pulled out my "gratitude" dish with Indian-corn kernels saved from the previous year and dumped the kernels onto the beautifully set Thanksgiving table, weevils -- who'd been happily noshing on the kernels all year -- scattered everywhere. Yes, I made an impression.

The first year Jim and I participated in any Black Friday madness. It was the year of the Furby fracas and each of the girls wanted a Furby. We woke up early, went to store after store in the dark -- and came away with three Furbys (Furbies?), one for each of the girls! Thanks in large part to my brother and his wife who were staying with us for the holiday. My brother who no longer speaks to me or Jim ... hasn't for years ... for reasons I don't understand.

The Thanksgiving Jim and I hosted the family mere days after moving into our current house. Boxes still awaited unpacking, furniture, rugs, curtains and more still needed to be purchased and placed. Yet Megan and Preston came -- it was the visit when they announced they were pregnant! -- Andrea invited a visitor from Brazil (I think it was Brazil), and many from my extended family attended. Truly one of my warmest Thanksgiving memories ever, despite the cantankerous and not-yet-working-correctly boiler system of our new place.

Thanksgiving activities with the family: crafting ornaments, doing puzzles, decorating gingerbread houses, painting canvases to adorn the walls of our new home. Megan's creation the year of the canvas? A depiction of how cold our seemingly cavernous house was thanks to that pesky boiler system, especially to one accustomed to desert temperatures.

The tradition of the girls, when they were too young to cook, contributing to the festivities by making dinner mints -- a cream-cheese and powdered sugar concoction flavored with peppermint, pressed into candy molds then popped out for sharing. A tradition that will be passed along to Bubby this year, so he too can contribute to the meal even though he's not yet able to cook.

It's one week until Bubby's little hands squish and squash like Play-doh the traditional dinner mints. Mints that will surely, in years to come, be remembered as the sweetest dinner mints ever.

And I can't wait!

Photo credit: stock.xchng

Today's question:

What are some memories from your Thanksgivings past?

Happy Thanksgiving!

Don't bogart that baby

While Andrea was here for the Halloween weekend, the inevitable "What are we doing for Thanksgiving?" question came up. When she asked, all I could say was, "I don't know ... I don't know ... I really don't know." I sounded like some kind of mumbling, bumbling, line-snorting idiot.

But I really don't know what we're doing for Thanksgiving. And because I'm a planner -- who usually has Thanksgiving plans set in August, who frets when life veers off the schedule I've laid out for it -- my unplanned Thanksgiving is stressing me out a bit. Okay, a lot. Unreasonably so. But I can't seem to muster the brainpower to figure out what the heck we're doing for Thanksgiving.

First of all, Brianna and Andrea both work in caretaking professions and both have folks to take care of on Thanksgiving. Andrea has a morning shift at the residential youth center, where she'll surely bring smiles to the otherwise sad faces of the adolescent girls incarcerated there. And Brianna likely -- although not yet confirmed -- has an afternoon shift drawing blood and bringing smiles to the faces of folks incarcerated in the hospital for the holiday.

Which means Thanksgiving plans will surely leave out one or the other of the girls.

And I'm not okay with that.

And I'm not okay with Megan, Preston and Bubby not being here for Thanksgiving. They're going to partake of the turkey dinner with his family. Can you believe it? I have to share my loved ones with their loved ones ... in another state!

I know I'm not supposed to bogart the baby -- or Megan and Preston -- but with the exception of the year they got married, I've not yet had to share with in-laws on Thanksgiving (Christmas is another story). And it's taking a little getting used to.

Megan has always been part of our Thanksgiving celebrations, of course. And when she and Preston started dating, he usually came home with her for the holiday breaks. The first year they were married, they chose to go it alone. Well, not totally alone; they live near Preston's grandparents and spent Thanksgiving with Grandma and Grandpa.

Then two years ago, Megan and Preston came to our new house for Thanksgiving ... and told us they were pregnant!

The following year -- last year -- they came for Thanksgiving with the little bundle of joy they'd promised us the year before.

But this year my arms will be empty. Heck, my house might be empty. And I've not yet figured out what to do about that.

So I really, really don't know what we're doing for Thanksgiving. I just know I won't be bogarting that baby. I have to share ... and I have to be nice about it.

But I don't have to be happy about it!