anticipating a feast of thankfulness

I am feeling sort of desperate for Thanksgiving. I can't wait. I am longing for Thanksgiving.

I think about it constantly: five whole days. Five. Whole. Days.

I will not travel north to see my family. I do feel a little guilty and a little self pity; but Five Whole Days..Five of them! All mine.

I will sleep, certainly. I will make a cranberry-sage pie. (Practice for the madrigals potluck. Scientifically required.) I will probably roast a turkey (and then make turkey stock with the frame after I've roasted that). I will get to fill my freezer. And I will eat very, very well.

I will probably clean: I will scrub everything so that when I sit down to my turkey and pie, I will do so in a shining home. All will be tidy, all clean. It will smell and look dazzling and delicious.

I will probably go to the Art Institute. Probably on Friday. I will spend as much time there as I can stand. I won't bring my phone--I won't even bring a purse of any kind. That way I will be able to move as freely as possible.

[I will grade, of course. I will have a stack of final papers to grade. I will grade in between scrubbing floors and washing dishes. I will grade in between rolling out pie pastry and basting the turkey. I will grade before and after my trip to the Art Institute.]

[And I will plan for the spring semester, if I can. And put together still more job materials. I will, somehow, by some miracle, do these things, too.]

I will go for a long walk. Saturday, probably. I'll take nothing with me but my keys and I will walk as long as I can. I will walk in the middle of the day, no matter what the weather. I will walk along the lake, and if it is gray and doomy, so much the better.

And I will sit quietly with God. Between the walking and the working; between the grading and the art; between the pie and the portfolio--between everything, I will sit for a few minutes here and then there, and I will sit quietly and I will attend to God.