Tuesday, October 9, 2018 – Thanksgiving Night

“…and the evening was so beautiful, that it made a pain in my heart, as when you cannot tell wether you are happy or sad; and I thought that if I could have a wish, it would be that nothing would ever change, and we would stay that way forever.”

Margaret Atwood, Alias Grace

We sit in the dark in the hot tub, me with watchful eyes scanning the ridge for bears, turkey-drunk and content. It’s been a satisfying Thanksgiving: turkey dinner enjoyed, good conversation had, simple blessings abound.

I hadn’t wanted to come out.

”There are animals out there,” I protested when Gerry suggested a hot tub before bed.

There’s that thing in marriage about compromise though, so I asked: “On a scale of one to ten, how much do you want to go?”

His response, an eight, was sufficient to send me for my swimsuit.

And now, we sit and soak and enjoy quiet conversation, and I’m glad for it. (My bear aware demeanour notwithstanding.) It’s a gentle way to end, what has been, a great day,

Soon, we’ll climb the stairs, crawl into bed, and fall fast to sleep, thanks to the double punch of tryptophan and the tub. For now we linger, talking about the day that was, the week to come, and other randomness.

It’s a good and simple happy life.


I’m a writer, reader, and creative. I thought by now I’d have things figured out, but I keep coming up with more questions. I think that’s okay. I’m here most mornings pondering ordinary things.

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