Happy Thanksgiving

November 24, 2016 - Thanksgiving Day

29 degrees/cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

Granddaughter, Ivy
For family and friends, I'm most thankful

I was awake early this morning, mentally going through my list of those things I'm most thankful for. The practice started years ago in my small cabin in northern Alaska when, after a failed thirty year marriage, I began to wonder what life was all about. 

Actually, my story begins a week before. I was sitting in a remote corner of the Anchorage airport when a gentleman walked up and asked if he could sit beside me. His demeanor was that of a friend, yet, I'd never seen him before. 

Who was this character who acted like he knew me? With hundreds of empty seats in the area, why did he choose one so close?

 I pretended to ignore him and what little conversation occurred was somewhat strained. As time went on, we began talking and soon, I was pouring out my soul to a complete stranger. I remember his eyes growing moist as he listened, almost like he'd experienced the same in his life. He sat and listened, seldom saying a word, yet his demeanor encouraged me to continue talking.

I finally ran out of things to say. I'd emptied my soul. My spiritual tank was empty.

Silence. He finally drew in a big breath then with little hesitation, suggested that I take a piece of paper and draw a line down the middle. On the left side, I should label those things I'm not grateful for, on the right, those for which I am. 

Saying that, he rose, patted me on the shoulder, and assured me I would figure it all out. I simply sat and watched as he blended in with the crowd. It later dawned on me that I'd never asked his name nor he mine. 

A week later and back from my travels, I found myself sitting in the cabin, alone, with only the sounds of my soul to keep me company. The tank that had been dry only a week before was once again full and I was battling the demons of depression. 

I took a piece of paper, drew a line down the middle, and began writing. The right hand side outweighed the left, enough so that it gave me something to think about. 

I've continued the practice every year since. My sons and their families, along with Sargie and her's, fill the top line. Friends and those who mean the most are right along side. 

As the years go by, the left side of my paper has become almost empty while the right side swells with written or mental gratitudes. 

My list has become more of a prayer, one that I can share with Sargie and sometimes, she shares her's with me.

As I've grown older, I've found that many of those items that were originally in the left-hand column were really blessings in disguise, a integrate weaving of events that makes up God's plan for us all. Little did I know while in the arctic how one event could lead to another.

So on this Thanksgiving Day, I'm grateful for what's happened in my life, good, bad, or ugly. I now realize that everything that has happened had to, otherwise I wouldn't be where I am today.

Being thankful doesn't erase the hurt or pain, it simply allows one to acknowledge that there's a plan of goodness and grace for us all, and for that, I'm especially thankful.

Meanwhile...

I hit the floor running Wednesday morning. With several inches of wet, sloppy, snow covering the ground, I rode with Sargie a mile down the road and walked back. I hated to see her drive on to Iron Mountain. She later told me she had the Blazer in four-wheel-drive the entire way to gain better traction.

Once home, I plowed the drive for the first time this year. Snow was removed again later in the afternoon.

I'm guessing that well over six inches has fallen in the past thirty-six hours, but it's so wet that it's hard to tell. 

It was time to don my kitchen hat and begin working up rutabagas.



The rest of the morning was spent cleaning, peeling, and cutting several into chunks small enough to later be boiled and mashed.

After the bagies came the cranberries.



I've often said I could make an entire Thanksgiving meal out of cranberries alone. They are my favorite holiday food group... well, along with turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, and Grandma Reinhardt's pumpkin pie.



It was mid afternoon, still plenty of time to play in the shop. I'd seen a bust of a snowman on the internet and wondered if I could make one on the lathe. The laminated two by fours were already mounted. All I needed to do was turn the machine on and begin shaping.



I've seen busts of all the great composers, but never of a snowman. Sargie will try painting it sometime this weekend. Worst case scenario, Mr. Snowman will make great kindling!

Sargie was home early last night due the slippery roads. It was an unexpected treat and with her having the next four days off, it felt like the beginning of summer vacation.

Since I'd been in the kitchen for a goodly part of the day and knowing we'd be eating way too much today, we decided popcorn and dried cranberries would be just the ticket for supper. 



Sargie's up and in the shower and I'm on my way out the door to plow last night's snowfall from the drive. With cranberries and rutabagas in hand, we'll be leaving for the Mighty Milligan Thanksgiving Day Feast later this morning. 

So on this very festive holiday, from Sargie and me, have a wonderful Thanksgiving. 

Oh, one last thing... that stranger that sat beside me in the Anchorage airport, the one that could have sat in any of the empty seats? 

I believe in angels and as the years have passed since our conversation, I've come to realize that I was visited by one who was filled with wisdom and understanding. Spiritual or physical, it makes no difference. He was there when I needed him. For that, I'm especially thankful.

Time to get busy. There's family to love, food to eat, football to watch, and an after dinner nap to take.

After all, a man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...