It is Sunday.  We always celebrated Thanksgiving rituals on Sunday at home.  I loved the smell of the turkey basting in early afternoon….carrots and apple and cinnamon….pumpkin seasoned in pies!  These are all of the things that remind us of home and friendship and family…experiences that somehow define who we are.  We revisit the rituals and know that these in the deepest sense, connect us to who we are and anything that is important.
I went out to the gardens yesterday and pulled the last of the annuals.  I tucked dried leaves in around the perennials, but left the bits remaining so that the bunnies can nibble in the cold of winter.  I know that most people find the little ‘buggers’ to be a ‘pain’.  I can only think about how cold they must get when the world freezes and sleeps for the season.
I don’t know that anyone at all stops by to read these ramblings…although there’s a trucker-angel who does from time to time.  But if in fact, you have read this entry, I somehow want to reach across time and space and everything else, to send you warmth, peace and a deep sense of being treasured somehow.  You, the reader, contain the human spirit….and so, that makes you precious.  You are precious and I give thanks.

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