being thankful.

For good music and bad art, warm red wine and cold pale ale. For public radio, the state park system and safe roads. For the internet and fast wifi connections and Netflix streaming to every damn screen I encounter. For our sometimes dry basement and our shaded one-car-plus garage. For dual widescreen monitors and Lightroom, for the D7000 and Nikkor. For the ability to occasionally sleep in or eat bad feelings while experiencing new and exciting potato chip flavors or breakFEAST for dinner.

For our Breville and our Keurig.

These are all nothing, of course, compared to having people laugh at my jokes instead of at me (or for at least allowing me to believe this to be the case). Those things would all be shite if not for for my kickass coworkers and my job and my paycheck. I’d soon suffer stroke bereft of calm political discourse and reasonable adversaries. I’m thankful for it all.

I’m thankful for peace. And for quiet.

And for my amazing friends – their company, shared ideas and help. For their never-ending encouragement and for the bail money.

For my parents and siblings and in-laws and uncles and aunts and cousins; all whom continue to love me…somehow…despite myriad imperfections and a crippling inability to let the party die.

For my amazingly excitable and adorable children who continue to believe I’m this super-happy-fun-guy even though they wish they were “in charge” ’cause I can be, at times, “a little too bossy.” For every single moment I share with them, and for everything they’re taught me.

Most of all, though…it’s my wife. For everything she’s done and everything she continues to do; for everything she’s been, everything she is.

I’m thankful for SO MUCH this year. But, more than anything…I’m thankful for her.

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