Thanksgiving.

Well, goodevening.

Happy Thanksgiving. Since that's where this rabbit hole has spit me out; we could start with that.

3:35 pm. My mother is making the necessary holiday preparations; there's a pancetta squash situation, a lot of sage being chopped. She makes it look effortless. I'm chained to my lap top; practically starving to death. Can't I have morsel to eat please? NEIN! She's german.

No she's not.

My father is in at the computer - last I checked - watching youtube videos of people crashing in planes. It's a festive day.

We break from our various projects to sample a pumpkin pie that came out of the oven first.

Now we've settled back in to work. Dad is out cutting wood stumps; props we'll use at next weekend's wedding. Eric is downstairs in the soap kitchen squirreling away bars for our Brooklyn shop. My mother; likely composing thoughtful yet firm emails to demanding wholesale clients. I bring her a cup of coffee after I finish peeling the potatoes.

Life just goes forward doesn't it? The mundane, everyday and the extraordinary - all lumped together in passing time.

Cocktail hour is not until 6:30, but here's toasting to you and yours this Thanksgiving...to peace where it may exist in patches on this earth, to my friend Josh from NASA who says he can reverse climate change, to coffee klatches, to roaming packs of dogs, to family businesses, to farming, to plaster dust and to flowers.

I've got some freaking neat shit to tell you about. In time.

Till then, you know what? You can bake the stuffing in the turkey.