You’d think, being a writer, that words would come easily to me, and in some instances they do, but at other times I struggle.  I’ve always found it difficult to know what to say when comforting the grieving or how best to ease another’s pain.  It’s almost as hard for me to find the right words to give thanks. 

I have been so incredibly blessed in my life in ways far and above anything I could have imagined.  Blessed by family, friends, my publisher, my agent, publicist, my staff, and by all of you in countless ways.  Tomorrow we celebrate Thanksgiving and I’ll be up at the crack of dawn stuffing the turkey with other women (and men) all across our country.  My children and their families plus assorted relatives will gather around our table and we will hold hands and offer a prayer of gratitude to God for the abundance He has supplied.  Let me say it in the simplest of terms.  Thank you for blessing my life, for your support, encouragement, and the joy you bring me.

I went to Costco this weekend.  That was a big mistake.  First off, it seemed every person within a tri-state area had the same idea.  I was fortunate to find a parking spot. 

My troubles didn’t end there, either.  I had my list and I was on a mission; I was there to purchase a turkey and pies and then I was out of there.  Then—and I’m sure there was some evil plot afoot that tripped me up—I got waylaid by the free samples.  To put it mildly, I ended up purchasing more than a turkey and pumpkin and apple pie.  The way I figure it, our bird cost us around $25.00 a pound! 

We had to take our puppy to the vet this week.  His two sisters have ear mites,  and we wanted to check to be sure Bogie’s ears were clear.  While we were there,  the vet decided to take Bogie’s temperature.  Only our little doggie was having none of that.  He looked at the thermometer and said, “You’re going to put that where?”  Oh, the indignity of it! 

The temperature incident started the visit on a negative note.  From there the vet wanted to look in his ears.   Our puppy threw a temper tantrum to the point where the vet thought he might have to tranquilize him just to take a peek in his ears.  Thankfully, that wasn’t necessary.  As to the telling of all this, I have only one comment:  Bogie takes after Wayne’s side of the family!

Our plan was simple.  Wayne and I  were to fly to Florida,  sign closing papers on our new house, pack up the condo, tag items for the movers, and meet them at our new place. Sounds simple, right? Haul a carload or two of clothes and maybe a few boxes of books, some knitting paraphernalia and a bottle or two of wine.  

Are you laughing yet?  It took three days to pack up the condo and an entire day for the moving company to make the transition.  And almost none of it was furniture!  Where in the name of heaven did all that  "stuff"  come from?  (I used the word stuff—I won’t tell you what Wayne called it.)  By the time we reached the Orlando airport on Sunday afternoon to fly back to Washington state,  we were both limping and full of aches and pains.

Even the simplest of moves isn’t for sissies.