Cousin Mo pulled off our Thanksgiving gathering today and our doorman was none other than Curtis their fellow resident. I've seen him many times but we've never been formally introduced until today. We visited and unloaded food until everybody their bearings and then Ron said the blessing over four generations of my family. Can you say "thankful?" Indeed I am. The three remaining elders were gathered at the table and we fixed their plates out of respect and necessity. Since I was working this was a perfect plan even though it was the first of several stops for the rest of their clan. We were blessed with a slow day at the sawmill and enjoyed the slower pace. Like..a lot. Everybody is just about worn out with the hustle and bustle. Several are planning on hitting the stores at the appointed hours for "doorbuster" specials like the eight 100 buck TVs at WalMart. Count them, eight. They'll be gone before the door shuts the first time. That is not my idea of fun.
I stopped by the mayor's house (of Samaria Bend) to give her a B12 injection which is a job I've inherited since her old friend Sally died. Every time I walk into her cozy little home and hug those bones I know that it's all got a purpose and the plan is there. At 92, she is the oldest living resident of this farm with my parents right on her heels and Gerald right behind them. At one time my Ky cousin and her family lived in the house that is being remodeled now and I'll never forget her walking out of my yard and into the field years later bawling her eyes out in order to let go of the memories. Her only granddaughter was at lunch today and I swear this child is a carbon copy of Deb at that age. Sweet as pie and so are the others. Boys will be boys but their daddies keep 'em toned down on the rowdy. I couldn't take my eyes off her most of the time and felt a spiritual bond with her that promises to carry on. One day, she'll remember me as Aunt Poopie.
We got the Cadi fixed and BG is out rounding up stuff for dinner number two with the Boogs family. It's good to be a two car family again. I gazed out over Mozella's land from her home on the hill and remembered years upon years of Forked Deer backwater creeping toward Samaria Bend Road and often over it like in the famous back to back spring floods. I found myself telling once again about the scariest moment of my entire life which was riding in the back of a crackhead's pickup truck through the mud and water and getting slung around like a doll. There was a baby in the back seat, by the way. I was ready to jump and told BG so when we suddenly hit pavement. You can't make this shit up. I'm thankful for so much these days because my priorities have changed from struggling for survival to trusting Big Ernie to take care of it. And that is what faith is all about.