Skip to main content

Gratitude #22: Holidays.

We woke up slow, ate breakfast in our pajamas, and lazily got ready for the day--taking dozens of minutes in between to wrestle with our little one, snack on chocolate, gaze out the window.

Late morning, we wandered over with a sack full of bread to feed the ducks, who--without the regular college crowd milling about to share crumbs with them--were without a feast. We fed them, and fed them, and fed them, while our young son giggled and snatched a piece of bread to nibble on himself.

The sky turned from hazy gray to rainstorm clouds, we made it home from our walk just in time and ate a small lunch while the munchkin napped and buckets of raindrops pelted the pavement outside our kitchen view.

In a few minutes we'll take a drive to be with family, where we'll give thanks, and eat turkey, pies, rolls, salad greens, and cranberry sauce. We'll share talents, play games, and return to the table to eat more food till our bellies fill to bursting.

And then we'll take a leisurely pace home again, to nestle in our warm beds, content from the conversation, company, and calories.

Today I'm grateful for holidays, and the gentle, undistracted pace they afford my family. I'm grateful that holidays provide togetherness. I'm grateful holidays provide a lull in traffic, a lull in business, a time of play and reverie and memories and food and family.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Problem with Chick Flicks.

I really, really, really enjoy a select few movies that I willingly watch over and over again. Pride and Prejudice is one of them. You see, Elizabeth's defense of her family, her sense of self respect, her ability to admit that she was wrong and to appreciate Darcy despite all his quirks, and quizzical brow-ness... it's marvelous. My husband doesn't share the sentiment, could you tell? ... and that's okay. There's rare a chick flick I enjoy near as much as I enjoy Pride and Prejudice or A Walk To Remember , and I wanted to explain why. You see, there's more than just a few problems with (many, not all) chick flicks:  (and if you have a chick flick that escapes many of these pitfalls then please oh please leave it's title in the comment section!) The heroine (or suitor) is less than honorable. I have a hard time rooting for a girl to get a gentleman when she's spending her time being scandalously loose with other men ( #thenotebook) . An...

Where's Number Three

A neighbor in her mid-thirties. A woman in her seventies. Their single commonality? They both asked me: Where's number three? I have a son, his name Charlie And then McKay, he's not quite three In my heart, both fit perfectly Yet others ask: Where's number three? Perhaps it's that I miscarried, My spouse's infidelity, The ache of infertility, A battle raging mentally, Illness on a crippling spree, Our family is complete, maybe. The reason's one or more of these, Yet you dare ask: Where's number three? In this question, running free Are judgements, jeering icily "You're not enough, Mik, can't you see? Buck up and give us number three!" I used to flounder, squirm, agree Or curl up small, cry, and plead. With time, I've seen things differently. I won't explain for number three. The questions of maternity Are just between my spouse and me And Parents, guiding Heavenly So please don't ask: Where's number three? Artwork Credit: Be...

A Year and 10 Days Ago

Dear Friends, Family, Acquaintances, and you lovely random passerby of the Blogosphere-- A year and 10 days ago I set out on a journey to write a blog post a day, for two months straight. I did that successfully, and then decided to extend my challenge to a one-year challenge. My report? I wrote 317 blog posts in a 365-day period. And I think that's pretty rad. A few reflections on this experience: Firstly, I started this blog not just because I love writing, but because I needed help. I was suffering from some intense postpartum anxiety, but I didn't know that's what it was at the time. Every moment of every day I felt like I was under severe stress and pressure, even when there were no evident triggers for such. The feeling in my gut on an almost constant basis felt like the queasy stomach, racing heartbeat, and unsettled mind that greeted me before every math test and job interview I've had growing up. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't know how...