The big bird in in the oven - stuffed, herbed, and jacketed with butter and wine -- the small bird is in the smoker with apple juice steaming and apple wood smoking. The most healthy among us are 5k trotting, and my little one is awake and glued to a teenager who is lovingly listening to her prattle. Nick is vacuuming and NPR is getting me in touch with the greater world. Fresh sage, rosemary and thyme are bruised and treating my olfactory system. I have the time to step back before the first basting. This day is no more a gift than any other. No more deserving of thanks and gratitude. It is intention that shapes the nature of the day. It is the frame around the day. I give thanks. Happy Thanksgiving.