The Annual Slightly Strange List

I am thankful…

… for the privilege to go “home” for Thanksgiving, even though I never lived in that house, to unpack in my parents’ guest bedroom, put my feet on their coffee table, and visit long and slow with them and my brother Nate’s family.

… that my husband, who was supposed to work Thanksgiving Day this year, had the choice to work the day before and the day after, so that he could join us for a beautiful feast on the actual holiday.

… that my son made it back in time from a harvest job out West, driving 14 hours so that we could all be together for a day.

… for shared memories and old jokes and photo albums full of snapshots of a funny childhood that wows our children and their cousins with its quaintness.

… for words: quirky, hilarious, perfectly descriptive words discovered in a game of Balderdash in the living room. And for the antics of the children we have produced who entertain us regularly with their almost-adult selves. Not to mention hearing them voice their own refreshing, occasionally startling opinions

… for colored glassware, and that the pieces I bought at a thrift store to decorate for Christmas did not quite all break when the box fell out of the back of an inexpertly packed Suburban when we opened it. At least one survived, and also the white pedestal bowl for fancy serving.

… for the meat sale I managed to hit while I was “home” for Thanksgiving, so that I could pick up cases of chicken at unbelievable prices just before we hit the road to come north again. Which, incidentally, is when the box of glassware fell out of the vehicle, along with a lot of other things that were not secured because we needed a space in the back for the meat, and our leaning tower of baggage did not have structural integrity when the hatch was opened.

… for a sense of humor because when I came through the parking lot with the trolley of meat, I texted my son to open the back, he complied, and everything spilled out. The space behind our vehicle looked as if a gypsy caravan had disgorged its contents: suitcases, baskets of dress-ups that the girls had sneaked along, boots collected and thrust in at the last minute, and a bag of vintage fabric scraps spilling out. Also the box of glassware. And I stood there and giggled helplessly while I tried to assist my son who was grimly reloading and muttering under his breath about his sisters who cannot pack lightly.

… for a pressure canner so that I could make short work of processing a lot of chicken for quick meals this winter.

… for having found a kiln repairman not terribly far away who replies to my questions and plans to come as soon as possible to check out what is wrong with my kiln that it keeps giving me grief at extremely inopportune times.

… for having had a premonition to not take any custom pottery orders, because if I had, I would be stressing about the Christmas deadline.

… for try before you buy, and cyber shopping because shopping in department stores gives me the actual heebie jeebies on Black Friday. But when you need boots, you need boots, and the sales right now really are phenomenal. And when your child has no boots either, you need to figure out something before the snow flies. Also flannel sheets, because it’s coming, oh yes, it is!

… for the amazing resources we have to have comfort and cheer. I feel gratitude every time I pull on wool socks, don a colorful cable-knit sweater, wrap my hands around a hot mug, light a candle, or turn up the heat.

… for knowing people who look and sound like Jesus, and inspire me to become more like them. This week a friend I have known since I was a tot lost her mom in a shockingly sudden way. “Linda’s mom” is how I think of Iva, who was unfailingly glad to see me and catch up with me, “Linda’s friend.” I remember a time in childhood when we were at their house, and the adults seemed a little stressed, possibly about church issues or maybe a business problem. Iva was pulling an amazing concoction of graham crackers, butter, and brown sugar out of the oven when we got there. I kept running in and out of the kitchen to sneak more bars until my mom saw me and reproved me because I was being a piggy. Iva just laughed and took my relish as a compliment. The impression I got was that they were so easy to make that she would be honored to make another panful of bars if I ate them all. Her whole life was characterized by giving freely and it was because she loved the One Who freely gave to her. There was never a question about her motivation to love, and I am grateful to have known her.

… that our house is south-facing so that every time there is even a stray ray of sunshine in the wintertime, I am aware of it, and so are the plants that line the windowsills. Like right now when I am sitting in an armchair in a puddle of golden light.

… for hope, and for goodness that is given in so many perfect gifts from Above. Graces that surround me and mine, mercies new every morning. Yesterday when we were getting close to home, I saw the solid cloud cover up ahead, compliments of our Lake Erie weather system. I took a picture, and I asked the Lord, “What would You like to teach me about this?” You may wonder at His answer, but He said quite clearly, “It’s a blanket. You can get under it. It’s safe.” And so I say, “Thank You.”