belly up to the pie

Well, the company has gone home and everyone has slumped down in their chair with their book or curled up in someone's lap dozing away. It was a wonderful, perfect, laughingly chatty Thanksgiving. Many of the people I love were all in the same room. And there were five kinds of pie.

I'm so thankful that my parents were able to come over the Mrs. Bump's house and have dinner with us. It was the first Thanksgiving in a very long time that I didn't feel torn about wherever I had chosen to eat dinner.

I'm so thankful that my mother-in-law's skin cancer Mohs surgery (note--before you click over there, I'm warning you there are pictures) went well, even if she's sporting a dent in her head. She's tired and her head hurts, but she's currently cancer free.

I'm also thankful for my Mr. Bump, who has loved me fat and not-as-fat, manic and grumpy, sick and healthy. He's my best friend, my sous chef, my backgammon partner and my voice of reason.

I'm grateful for my little warm puppy, all her joy and energy that wiggles out of her stub of a tail. I'm also grateful for when she's so exhausted she crashes up against my leg and sighs her fat, contented sigh.

I'm thankful for my friends, who almost without exception live elsewhere, but still make an effort to see me when they can. I miss you all so much!

I'm thankful for this stupid blog, which allows me someplace to put my thoughts. Sometimes I hope that the only people reading this are people I know, and sometimes I hope the only people reading this are people I've never met. I allow myself the illusion of a grand following when it benefits me, and when its better that I'm the only one reading this, then I switch over to that delusion.

And last, but certainly not least, I'm thankful for the five kinds of pie.

Happy Thanksgiving, all y'all!