It’s not at all clear to me how we managed to make our long holiday completely fail to coincide with everyone else’s. Quinn and Ada have already gone. Carole, Jamey, Bryan, Shannon and Cian are off on Friday, the Moores to New Hampshire and the O’Sullibrechts to Waterford and Paris. The Murgisteads always go back East at Chrimble. Poor me! I turn my abandoned snout to the moon and howl piteously.

Oh well. Despite the genocidal overtones (I’m a white Australian, so my whole life is genocidal overtones) I like Thanksgiving best of all the American holidays. It’s less bangy than July 4, less contraily than Fleet Week, less depressing than Memorial Day or Veterans Day or MLK Day, less work than Labor Day (heh, I meant hauling everything up to the playa, but let it stand). Also, I am in favour of roast dinners with all the trimmings.

Here is a brief and probably incomplete list of the things I am particularly thankful for this year (in no particular order and besides the usual ohmiGod-I-am-so-lucky-to-have-them feelings re Jeremy, Claire, my family and friends old and new, plus the mere existence of books, food and horses):

new babies Miranda, Tara, Avi and Sebastian; Avi’s and Alain’s good doctors and excellent propects for full recovery; impending babies for Salome, Anna and Serena; the weddings of Jamey and Carole, Aaron and Serena, Alex and Io; impending weddings for Kate and Asa, Ian and Kat;

(breath)

the house on Eugenia; the blocks of land on Prentiss Street and in Gympie; Jeremy’s Constellation project; Carole’s art show; my trip to Turkey; Lesley’s trip to Africa; Jonathan’s and Leonard’s contributions to General Clark’s campaign; Josh and Cate’s efforts for Senator Kerry; 826 Valencia; Moveon.org; Chez Miscarriage; MNFTIU; Doctors Without Borders; Human Rights Watch; Jon Stewart.

Politically the weather is bad with no sign of improvement to come, but people – my people – are still doing excellent and important work, falling in love, getting married and having babies. Hey, I’m not feeling cross any more. How’d that happen?

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