On the surface, Thanksgiving seemed a bust. The success of our much anticipated, long awaited holiday getaway was swooning on shaky legs. We were overworked, exhausted, grouchy from the toll of caring for our declining senior pup. There was much to celebrate, though– the impetus of this whole outing– the business is growing, we are growing, and we are having FUN. But even fun can use a respite from time to time. Overworked hands and wrists need time to ward off tendinitis. Overactive design imaginations benefit from the sustenance the novel that someone else’s active imagination provides. We needed some down time; some time to be together as a family rather than as coworkers and business partners.
Over the hill and through the woods we retreated, intent on a holiday of our making. Then we were introduced to Mother Nature and a wee bit of modern day miscommunication. An unexpected storm left us without power or water for two days over and including Thanksgiving. A misunderstood propane order for the gas heating stove left us with rationed warmth until after the holiday. Technology saved us some: in the dark I read my book on my iPad— White Oleander — and I still had a charge. I was swaddled in three coats and an antique quilt I should have deemed too fragile for use, but decided instead that it and its maker would be better honored by allowing it to provide comfort and warmth to the end. Our dogs pressed in around me. My husband sat near the meager fire, resolute in his puzzle progress by the light of four candles. Our Thanksgiving dinner was the simple warming of leftovers I could manage over a gas fireplace not designed for the purpose. And we were together, a magical winter wonderland softly whispering us into a cozy restorative slumber.