Thanks

I just spent thirteen hours on the road, driving back from visiting a large passel of relatives for Thanksgiving.  The drive wasn't a lot of fun, but the visit was delightful.  This branch of the family are all truly good people, and it gave me a good reason not to join my parents and Wife as they visited Son 2 at Durmstrang.  (In the interests of clarity, I would have dearly loved to see my mother and Son 2; but it was a great relief not to have to see my father and not to be asked to sit down at a meal with Wife.)

 

It's the season for gratitude, and I'm grateful that I got to spend it in such pleasant company.  Even better, Son 1 cobbled together transporation from University and joined us.  I could try to tell you stories of the long weekend, but they are all stories of visiting, talking, and eating: every one of them a pleasant thing to do, but none of them dramatic enough to make a gripping yarn.  It was just a good, quiet time.

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I have a couple of other topics that I want to think through, which means coming back to write about them at greater length.  I will introduce them here as a promise to return.  But I don't expect to do them justice right now.

 

FIRST: I continue to find that my fantasy life is full of arguments with my father … much the way it used to be full of arguments with Wife (but hardly ever is any more).  I keep saying I should use this blog as a way to write down all the elements of my relationship with my father, in order to come to some better clarity about it.  Well yeah … I should do that.  Really.

 

SECOND: My boss's job seems to be coming open – many miles and two time zones away, in Sticksville.  I have submitted an application for it.  From the company's point of view, I think I'd be a logical choice.  (Of course, I might be in for a rude surprise.)  On the other hand, I expect the boys to think (even if they don't say it out loud): "Hey, what is this? First you sold the house in which we grew up our entire lives, and now you want to leave the town in which we grew up too? So that we won't even have a single room or stretch of floor in that town to call 'Home' any more? WTF???"  How about my own point of view?  I'm not really sure.  Again, this is something to talk out until I realize I've talked myself into it or out of it.

 

But not tonight.  It's time for a light supper and bed.  Or at least a glass of sherry.