I can hit the ground running in the morning if I have to, but what I really love is the early morning quiet time, especially today, the day before Thanksgiving, when there's so much to do. (You know you're feeling some holiday stress when you dream of turnips and yams, and that doesn't strike you as weird until right this second, when you see it in writing.)

But I want to put the stress aside because bottom line, you do what you can do and what you can't, just doesn't get done. The world doesn't end, life goes on and no one cares that you didn't polish the table base or match the candlesticks to the sugar bowl but that they came and were welcome, comfortable, warm and cozy, that there was love and laughter and good food, and that you were happy to see them, and they you.
 
I have a lot to be thankful for this year.

The big ones, of course, are my family, animals and friends, who are as beautiful and constant as all the stars in the big, clear sky out here.

But there are other things that rank too, including the rattlesnake that could have bitten me but didn't, the bat that could have bitten me but didn't, the racoons that could have bitten me but didn't, the new strays cats that could have bitten me but didn't...well, you get the idea.

I'm thankful for the readers who have sent such amazing emails after reading How It Ends, for an agent and editor who get it, for my valiant little woodstove that keeps this place so toasty, for the turkeys who peek in the sunroom windows at the cats and the does who feasted in my flowerbeds, for gorgeous summer nights spent hanging out on the patio drinking coffee, jotting book notes and listening to my boyfriend play the guitar, for having a career I love, people I love, and for the occasional blues that makes the ensuing happiness so much sweeter.
 
Thanksgiving has always seemed like the bridge between autumn and winter to me, and yes, the holidays are full of sparkle and bustle but underneath that it feels like a gentler, quieter time, a time to tuck in and reflect on what has been and what comes next, to imagine, to write, to regroup, curl up in front of the fire with a good book, and maybe hibernate some. There's a seasonal rhythm here, a peace, and I like it.  

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.