The turkey breast I bought turned out to be pre-seasoned, so I didn't try the recipe I'd planned. OK by me, I'm a very lazy cook. It even came with a gravy mix. Plopped it in the crock pot with 1/2 cup water and that was that. Dinner will be at 4. I'm also having dressing made like Mom always did, a different cranberry salad than hers - it's labor-intensive and I'll have more time to cook at Christmas. Also scalloped potatoes (from a box) and asparagus. I have a piece of pumpkin pie from Village Inn that I picked up last night when I ate dinner. So I'm set.
This will be my first Thanksgiving alone, since Uchol died last year and Mom died last March. That's the last of my immediate family. Don't feel sorry for me, I don't. I like solitude, the peace and quiet. Much as I remember those huge family Thanksgiving dinners at Grandma and Granddad Smith's with fondness, the crowd got to me and after dinner I'd go find somewhere I could be alone for a while. Or close to it. Sometimes I went out and played with my two (or three if the California Smiths came) younger cousins. The women would all go into the kitchen to clean up and divide the food, the men would park in front of the Game, and the teenagers would go upstairs to shoot pool on Granddad's table. Not really fitting with any of those groups, I'd find somewhere else to be and recharge.
Today I'm going to hook up the X-box I bought for my birthday a couple weeks ago, and the Skyrim game I bought with it. Wish me luck! I've done some computer games but never an X-box, or a game that's as complicated as that one looks. It also looks like a lot of fun.
So much to be thankful for, I don't know what to write down. My house, my job, my friends, the little view of the hills out my study window. My church and the people in it. My writing. Books and cats. Coffee. Ice cream. Not having to worry about food. Having enough money to be comfortable. My cousins. I'm also thankful for the work Jared Padelecki and Wentworth Miller have done to ease the stigma against mental illness in general and depression in particular. Revealing their own struggles when they're so much in the public eye was very brave. Jared's posts in Facebook in particular have made me realize I'm not the weak-willed emotional basket case loser for having depression that people have made me feel like my entire life. The fact that I'm 63 and still here means I'm strong, I'm a warrior. I no longer have shame about my depression, and that makes me less depressed. I know I can fight it because I have fought it.
So, despite the losses of the last year, I am deeply thankful for my life today.