Thanksgiving

Running was easier this week because cool northerly winds kept most of the smoke from wildfires out of Town.  So Monday I was able to run six miles, mostly with Fred - he was doing some road intervals and I arrived just in time to join him - and today I ran six miles, mostly with Vicki.  Running with friends makes the journey easier, a little maxim that applies to more than just running.

And just in time for Thanksgiving, the weather forecast is suggesting a 30% chance of showers.  Wouldn't that be a cause for genuine thankfulness, if it actually materialized overnight?  Our parched land is so thirsty that even a few drops would be welcome. There is a better chance next Tuesday, and we patiently watch the progress of low pressure systems making their way across the nation, hoping that the moisture will not dissipate before it arrives as it has so frequently this month.

Tomorrow is a time for giving thanks, and despite this being a year of great loss - the death of Martha's Dad, other losses close and hard to bear, and perhaps even the loss of progressive government in these dark, parched times - we continue to remain hopeful and to give thanks.  Martha read about a wonderful idea this year:  a "gourd of gratitude" in the center of our table, a pumpkin on which we wrote all the things for which we are thankful.  "Rain" found its way on our little gourd, and "friends," and "running" (since this blog is ostensibly about running, after all), and so much more that we quickly ran out of room.

That's how it should always be, after all.  There should be so much thankfulness in our hearts that it overflows, so that there is not room enough for it all to fit, on little pumpkins or in little blogs.