Thanksgiving dinner was delightful and delicious. Everything came to the table hot and I’m pleased and satisfied with the outcome, generally. Oh, sure, the stuffing was a little dry (I tried a better quality cubed bread, but didn’t correctly account for the additional liquid I’d need, and failed to crush some of it to crumbs), and I didn’t also make rolls or biscuits (are you fucking kidding me? I made the meal without help, and only have 1 oven and four burners! lol). Still, the “bitching” about those details wasn’t a big deal and overall the meal was well-received.

… The sous vide turkey was fucking amazing!…

By the end of the evening, we were all relaxing, food put away, dishes cleared, kitchen tidied up, and the first load of dishes in the dishwasher, watching old UFC fights and having a merry good time. My feet were hurting like crazy from being on them all day. I’m pretty sure everyone was in pain from their own limits being reached over the course of the day. I was tired, too. Up early, at it all day…no nap. lol Like a little kid, I was at risk of being moody and emotional. I went to bed abruptly when it was suddenly super clear that any little thing might set me off.

… Because little things had begun to set me off, not because I’m emotionally aware and wise from experience. Just human…

Oh damn, what a lovely Thanksgiving, though. Leftovers, too. Yummy. Today? Well, I’ll be safely at home not shopping, putting up the Giftmas tree and decorating the house with festive things. No way am I going out into the retail chaos today! There was already traffic at 05:00 a.m.! Fuck that.  I’ve got better things to do.

Long weekend. If I get the tree done today, I am hoping to paint tomorrow. My Traveling Partner has brought something to my creative experience that no previous partnership has; structure. He’s been actively encouraging me to make a point of painting on Saturday. I’m not entirely sure why, exactly, but having that bit of structure has been…nice. I paint more, and it’s becoming an actual practice, which feels good and definitely nurtures something within me. Easy enough to also do laundry, rotating the loads between paintings and folding things and putting it away after the painting is all done, or while taking a break to think about the next piece.

As things are these days, I quite literally do not have any “days off”, at all, unless I leave for the coast or to go camping. There’s just too much to do, and I’m also employed full-time. I’m not even bitching (well, maybe a little); there’s just too much non-negotiable workload between work, household upkeep, caregiving, and errands that need to be run. It can’t not get done, and at least for now it all falls to me day-to-day (although the Anxious Adventurer handles the majority of the heavy work to do with things in the shop, or big projects like assembling furniture or the hot tub maintenance). I’m damned lucky any day I can sit down for a few minutes. Even taking time to shower sometimes feels like a luxury. Having my partner’s encouragement to paint, in spite of all that… well, I feel very loved.

I manage to keep getting a walk each morning, and making time to write. Self-care matters, and these practices fit neatly into a time of day in which I wouldn’t be inclined to do noisier things around the house. It’s something. It’s a lot, really. I’m grateful for these quiet moments alone with myself. They’re as important to me as time spent at my easel.

A new day.

I stop at a convenient picnic table along the trail and write for a few minutes. Chilly morning. Gray daybreak becomes a gray dawn. Looks like a gray autumn day ahead. I listen to a flock of Canada geese pass overhead.

I’m grateful for this good life, and each new day. Yesterday I made time to renew connections with old friends, and distant family. Our relationships matter more than most other things about being human. I’ve got some good friends. I smile thinking about the various conversations about food and recipes. What a delightful thing to share. I feel fortunate. I sit awhile reflecting on life, recipes – and gratitude.

The day stretches ahead of me. It’s already time to begin again.