By lex, on November 25th, 2010
It’s yet early on a Thursday morn, and one that qualifies in this parts as a cool, crackling day. There is no frost on the ground, nor yet do I scent a whiff of woodsmoke and the leaves do not fall. The bobwhites are safe in their coveys, at least from me. Yet we are reminded that it is autumn, and the harvest is mostly in. Our turkey received no pardon, and the Virginia country ham arrived yesterday, perfectly attendant to its duty. Before the day was done it had already been more than a little carved up, for the Kat and I, we do love us some Virginia country ham at this time of the year, sliced paper thin.
We five sailors on our conjoined journey are once again re-assembled in one place, for SNO has returned from Basic Instrument simulators in Corpus Christi, contact flights awaiting him on the other side, as are aerobatics, formation and radio instruments, all in their due turn. For his part, he is greatly relieved to return to civilization, and we are much pleased in his company. The Biscuit slumbers in her room and will yet for no small while, the artiste, the middle child, my sweet, slightly mad bohème. The Kat too will slumber yet a while, her restless energy and penetrating intelligence on standby for the greeting of the day. There will be a brief moment of angelic innocence as she awakes, she will smile softly before remembering herself and a new force of nature will once again be born to swirl around us, demanding to be reckoned with. The Hobbit, our anchorage and rock sleeps too, with only Gus, the silly git of Dachshund, to keep her company. The house is quiet, the neighborhood not yet stirring, and I have much to be thankful for.
We are entirely united, fully sheltered, adequately clothed, more than sufficiently fed, mostly employed, and in universal, rude good health. We are chiefly free from internal fears, unthreatened by external dangers and stoutly defended abroad by those who are sacrificing all of these things for our benefit against those would take everything we treasure away. This congenial combination of welcome factors makes us millionaires, in my accounting, beneficiaries of a pearl beyond price. For we know that it need not now, and may not be forever thus.
But we can all remind ourselves that the richness of this country was not born in the resources of the earth, though they be plentiful, but in the men that took its measure. For that reminder is everywhere—in the cities, towns, farms, roads, factories, homes, hospitals, schools that spread everywhere over that wilderness.
We can remind ourselves that for all our social discord we yet remain the longest enduring society of free men governing themselves without benefit of kings or dictators. Being so, we are the marvel and the mystery of the world, for that enduring liberty is no less a blessing than the abundance of the earth.
And we might remind ourselves also, that if those men setting out from Delftshaven had been daunted by the troubles they saw around them, then we could not this autumn be thankful for a fair land.
So Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours, and may you receive every blessing of the season.