Time to Cop and Attitude of Gratitude and Pie

So like ten minutes ago I was trotting around after my little trick or treater—who went as a dead snowboarder, thank you very much. And he did it himself and was plenty warm, candy corn be praised!—and now all of a sudden we're two weeks out from Turkey Day.


I'm telling you, time is speeding up. And it's a good thing too. Because many more years like this last one—campaigning-speaking-wise—and we'd all be dead. Or wish we were.

How wildly ironic is it that the election would finally end right about when we all start feeling our gratitude? The Obama campers are celebrating (sometimes a little too smugly–check out Twitter. At least on my feed. Grace, my people. Grace goes a long way. We don't need to shove anything up anyone's nose. The election did that just fine.) While the Romney campers all need a collective hug and a prozac, poor dears (several of whom also made my Twitter feed entertaining, until it verged on hysterical.)

But we'll get over it. Because Thanksgiving is coming. A holiday that reminds us of what's important: turkey and gravy and stuffing (without the weird giblet-y things please. I beg of you.) Mashed potatoes drowning in gravy, green bean casserole (never had this) and marshmallow sweet potatoes. Homemade cranberry-orange sauce, black olives waving around on tiny tot fingertips, and grandma's rolls (which no one can duplicate, and since she never wrote down the recipe, no one ever will. I know. I tried. Please don't make me talk about it.) And lastly, Oh lastly my darlings: luscious tender oozy spicey pies, pies, pies! Pumpkin, pecan, apple, and anything with meringue on top. Yum!



Er. Was I saying something?

Oh right! Gratitude. Anyway, the Day of all that delectable food scrambled together with funky relatives and excited kids is coming up. We can effectively erase any wretched worldly cares with a gratitude-laced holiday like Thanksgiving. And we should. There's plenty to be grateful for. Like:

  1. The weather has been gorgeous lately. At least here.
  2. And speaking of which, Hurricane Sandy has left the building. Huzzah! And we're seeing signs of people helping people and lives recovering. Thank heavens.
  3. We are still a free nation. No we are. No really, we are. And we just freely elected a president by the voice of the people–a unique process that has been in place for 225 years. And it's still going strong.
  4. I have civil rights, and in fact can hum without let or hindrance in public places, the theme music from Downton Abbey.
  5. Downton Abbey.
  6. Okay, fine. Downton is a British import, but I get it on my TV here in the U.S., a'ight? And if I'm really sneaky and careful I can watch season 3 on speakeasy-type websites dedicated to bringing in television shows that aren't airing in the United States yet. But actually I'd never partake and watch those illicitly gotten shows. Never. Nev. Er.
  7. Doctors who've been expertly trained and know what they're doing and can help people like me with Hashimoto's Thyroiditis—and my latest: cortisol depletion— get our lives back. 
  8. But not ER doctors who can't tell that the reason my freaking hands are blue is because I'm wearing new unwashed jeans, not because they're about to fall off. Sheesh. (Don't know what I'm talking about? Oh, it was lovely. And embarrassing. In a hideously funny sort of way. You may read about it here: [link to stupid blue-hand story])
  9. Food. Lots of it. So much that when I go into the grocery store I am overwhelmed by the sheer volume of choices. I used to live in Europe. They have plenty of food there these days too. But don't nobody else got the wicked crazy number of choices we've got. And that's all down to the freedom to pursue your dream and be inventive and make your own life with no one telling you what to do. It's a genius thing and I'm grateful for it. Even though I can't choose between the fourteen brands of pop tarts.
  10. Also I'm glad that we don't just have baked potatoes to eat. I've had to go down that road because of funky food allergy testing. Potatoes; all day, every day. I love the little tubers. But may I just say that ONE SHOULD NOT TRY TO SUBSIST ON THEM OR ONE WILL GO A LITTLE CRAZY AND STICK ONE'S HEAD IN THE REFRIGERATOR THE MINUTE IT IS MEDICALLY LEGAL, AND SUCK EVERYTHING UP LIKE A CENTRAL VAC UNIT.
  11. Just saying.

All right. The point is our lives are blessed. And we're about to celebrate that with boatloads of food. Life, I have noticed, is much happier when I am noticing what's good about it rather than what's bad or what I don't like. Yeah, my energy is on the floor right now. But I have all of my body parts and they are functioning. I just heard my kid sing in a concert yesterday and it was beautiful. And check it out: I have a computer and am putting one word in front of another and writing something, as I dearly love to do.

So, life is good, my friends. I hope we are all loving it.

About Janiel 433 Articles
I have managed to keep the same husband for nearly three decades, and the same four children for almost that long - although one or two of them say it has been much longer. I have been writing since I learned to hold a pencil, and trying to make people laugh even longer. I hope to do some good in the world before I go the way of it. And if not, I'd better at least get to visit Ireland.


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