This is my house, in the middle of my street. It’s tiny and the neighborhood’s not great. It keeps the rain off my head, though, and the wind off my back.
There’s nothing in my house I don’t love, and I have spent a lot of time and effort making it home.
People who come here always say, “It’s so calm and peaceful in your house.” I don’t know that I could ask for more.
Thankfully, I am a person who falls asleep when her head hits the pillow.
That’s why this post is a day late.
I’ve always been a good little sleeper.
I am thankful I have the right to remain silent.
I am also thankful I sometimes have the inability to do so.
I have migraines.
I don’t have one now, but I had one for the last seven days that came and went and generally made me miserable.
I’m thankful for Amerge, Aleve, Butalbital, and ice packs.
Yesterday I posted that a friend of mine who is a teacher in Middle Georgia had sent out a call for help for a five-year-old.
The response to her call on Facebook was overwhelming, and my owns friends stepped up in a big way too.
I am constantly humbled by the generosity of the people around me, and by the way they just do what needs to be done when it needs to be done.
I am thankful for the genuine human decency that people like Katrina, Heather, and Christiane show me each and every day of my life.
I am thankful all of the Halloween candy is finally gone.
That was a lot of responsibility, and I didn’t think I was going to be able to do it.
There is a child, a little girl who is five years old, who needs some help.
She is a student of my friend Katrina, who teaches in the very school I went to as a child. Every teacher ends up providing for a child or two every school year.
They are in Middle Georgia, so the weather doesn’t require anything like sub-arctic gear, but winter is coming, and rural children do stand outside and wait for the school bus.
Things are tough all over, and nobody has a lot to spare, but if you are in the Atlanta area and have any girls clothes, size five, that you could donate for this child, I will ship them to Katrina for her.
If you are not in the Atlanta area and would like to send something, I will be happy to provide the address for you.
Thank you for any assistance you might be able to provide.
I have what I think is an enormous red scar under my nose. Everybody tells me it’s not noticeable at all.
The scar is from where I had a Basal Cell Carcinoma removed.
If you don’t know, Basal Cell Carcinoma is skin cancer.
It looked like a tiny little zit, but it aggravated me and I had it taken off and biopsied.
I am thankful that I have plenty of insurance and access to skilled physicians.
I am thankful that I am still here to remind you to wear sunscreen and get your skin checked – melanoma is a stupid way to die.
I’ve done some stupid things and had some hairy experiences, most of them not caused by the stupid things I’ve done. For the most part, I’ve come through unscathed, but not unschooled.
I’m thankful that I’ve lived to tell the tale when, in retrospect, at least a few of those times, I shouldn’t have walked away.
I had one last night. It was delicious.
It was a brisket burger from Fox Bros. and I’ve been tiptoeing around it for years, because the description makes it sound like things could go wrong in a split second.
But last night, my brother and I were picking up dinner for our mother and stepfather and I finally decided it was just one meal out of a thousand this year and went for it.
Let me tell you about it: it’s chopped brisket, melted with pimento cheese, on a bun, with jalapeño mayonnaise. With pickles.
I’m a little ill just reading that back to myself.
I ate about a quarter of it before I had to just wrap it back up to make another run at it tonight. But I gotta tell you, that’s a fine specimen of a sandwich.
Just like a Slattery 