After the hustle-bustle and hubbub of Thanksgiving, we're almost back to normal - "normal" being the relative term here. The oversize pots and pans, for which no kitchen I know has room to store, have been replaced in the shed. My frantic last-minute racing around has returned to my usual crawl. Even Bessie Anne, whose strange behavior has been concerning the last few days, seems back on an even keel. I think she was even more tired and stressed than I. I love holidays, but as she and I get older they do take their toll.
I asked an acquaintance about her Thanksgiving and she said it was pretty good; at least nobody, including herself, ended up in tears this year. That forcefully brought home to me how fortunate I am to have my family. No sniping, no fighting, no jealousy, no tears. Teasing, yes, and constantly, but never with meanness. Competition, definitely, but why play if you don't want to win? Brothers (including my after-market boys), sister, familiar guests and strangers; all get and give heartfelt hugs and kisses coming and going. All things being relative, I believe that's the way it should be and I never take it for granted.
I stepped out on the deck a few minutes ago to catch this sunrise. No sooner had I sat down again than the cloud cover returned and darkened the sky. That's normal for this time of year.