Thanksgiving is upon us once again. This has always been a weird holiday for me personally. There is no childhood memory bringing me back to some vision of yesteryear. For two decades, I had the privilege of marrying into a tradition. Angie’s family hosted a wonderful gathering down in Novi, and that is what we did. Down there we would have turkey, ham, and watch the game. It was also down there in Novi where I would be humbled mightily by the most unlikely of adversaries; a soufflé.
I woke up on Monday to a world of undisturbed snow. Me and the dog are up early, so we get to be the first footprints up and down the sidewalk.
The leash had broken.
I love words. With words we tell stories. We sing songs. And they can do so much more than convey information. They are mysterious in how they go out far beyond the ears of those who hear them. I love turning a phrase, the long pause searching for the right word, and even the most groan inducing pun.
There are bad mornings. Not awful. Not the worst. Just a bad morning.
I wrote these words for our church, and thought I would share them with you. It is Election Day.
When I was in college I tore my ACL. I was being unwise and paid for it dearly. Being young and invincible, I ignored the injury.
On Thursday I am going in for a throat scope. They are going to drop some kind of camera down my throat and see what they can see.
When you first move to a new area there is the Honeymoon Period. This is when everything is new and wonderful. The differences between cultures are cute. They make easy conversation with the family back home.
I went to Wal-mart yesterday. I had a list in my hand from school telling me what the kids needed for the year. Folder, glue, erasable pens(?). We hunted around, marking off each item as we found it. It was going to be an uneventful, boring day of shopping. But it didn’t go down that way.