Actually, I’m not going over the river or through the woods. Not to mention that, at my age, there’s no grandmother’s house to go to.
But I will be heading out to my sister Kath’s in Brookline for dinner.
If I did have a horse, and if there were snow enough on the ground for a sleigh ride, that horse would definitely know the way to carry the sleigh to Kath and Rick’s, where I spent the better part of the last three months while my reno was underway.
That reno is nearly done at this point – just a few stray bits and pieces, like shower doors and heat registers – for which I am immensely thankful.
Even with those finishing touches still to go, a ton of boxes still to be unpacked, a ton of pictures that need hanging, those (bookcases in need of a coat of paint, everything is beautiful. When I sit on my new couch (or in my old bed with the new duvet cover), looking around at things, I sometimes want to pinch myself. I really live here? (You’ve come a long way, baby, from that three-decker in Main South Worcester…)
Much else, of course, to be thankful for.
As ever, for my wonderful family and friends, especially Kath and Rick for taking me in (and to Kath for taking her weekend to knock the bedroom and den into shape – no small task).
I’m thankful for my clients, still providing interesting work (which, admittedly, is on occasion a tad dull and wonky), which I’ll take for as long as they’re willing and I’m able.
I’m thankful for my general contractor and his ace construction crew. (And I’ll be even more thankful when they get back in here and finish up the odd bits and bobs.)
I’m thankful for health, and for what wealth I do have (even if it didn’t budge much this year: at least it didn’t lose money…).
I’m thankful for the folks at St. Francis House, who take such excellent care of Boston’s poor and homeless. If you’re looking for a place to make a holiday donation, this is a good one.
I’ll end with two things.
One, in keeping with Pink Slip tradition, is a link to last year’s Thanksgiving Day post. (Trust me, the 2015 edition is cheerier…)
And two, this picture I found of a balloon from the 1949 edition of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade. I was not yet born, but I was just around the corner. Given that this was what was in store for me, it’s no wonder that, as my mother told me on more than one occasion, I tried to crawl back up in the birth canal rather than drop into the world.