Thanksgiving went quite well, with a fabulous dinner made by Diane’s mom, who created the most amazing pican pie I’ve ever had. I expect that’s how The Big Pecan Pie in Heaven, the one from which all other pican pies are but shadowy recollections, must taste. I shan’t hope to eat another Pican Pie like that again.
We almost didn’t make it to Thanksgiving, though, as my son, Bryce, began to complain of similar stomache issues as my daughter, but after a while it was clear that he felt well enough to go, so off we went to the beautiful Concord, CA … (and I am oh, so sincere about that, believe me… no really). Diane’s folks house is a lovely, comfy place, though, sort of an oasis of calm sanity in the middle of the SF Burbs (and that I really am sincere about).
I had intended to write a Thanksgiving entry, stating all of the many, many things I am thankful for, but as we stayed the night at Di’s folks’ house, I didn’t hook up to the net and post. Unfortunately, this morning, I found myself less than feeling well. Nausia stuck with me from about the moment I woke up, throughout the day.
I was strong… I persevered through the nausia and moved through my day, reading to my children, playing Dungeons & Dragons with Bryce (we’ve finally begun the Temple of Elemental Evil with great changes by me to a) bring the play up to the current D&D rules and b) take out the AWFUL D&D dieties and replacing them with Viking Gods, making the play much more interesting) and even eating what would normally be a wonderful breakfast and lunch (my favorite sandwich, a Thanksgiving sandwich with Mayo, Turkey, Stuffing, and Cranberry Sauce) but due to my unforgiving nausia was pennance for some sin I did somewhere along the way, and not a minor one at that. Still, one has to eat. No Pie, though… I couldn’t face having something so perfect go through my unappreciative lips.
I held on through more D&D plating, keeping my breakfast and lunch in place through sheer will (if I’ve learned nothing from Survivor and Fear Factor, it is all mind over matter). Then it was time to head back home, and I was feeling amazingly green around the gills, but cheerfully offered to drive if Diane really, really couldn’t. Thankfully, she could.
I spent the drive in the passenger seat, with my hands held tightly in my lap, breathing slowly and determinedly, speaking much less than I would under normal circumstances. I focused on the hills in the far distance all the way to the bridge, and spent the last few miles totally focussed on folding little trident wrappers from Diane’s gum into lovely cranes while trying not to take my eyes off of the car bumper ahead of me. Still I kept it together (with the mantra “Keep it together, Tony, Keep it together…” travelling through my head over and over). With these tools, the power of meditation kept me from hurling all over the bay bridge.
We got home, I grabbed 4 backpacks and bags out of the trunk, opened the door after climbing the short flight of stairs, and immediately dropped the bags on the table and ran to drop everything else in the toilet. A few deep heaves later, and I sat on the floor, breathing slowly once again.
Now, I’m finally calm (still nautious, but I think over the hump), and there is one unexpected thing that I find myself thankful for. The Mac iBooks are notorious for the fact that they and the AC adapter that comes with it get quite warm. The nice thing about that is that the AC Adapter makes a perfect heating pad, and I’ve got it sitting on my tummy, and it feels good, and I am happy to be home.
Happy Thanksgiving, and don’t forget the unexpected things when saying thanks to whatever or whomever deserves your gratitude.