Thanksgiving Sunday. It is cloudy, breezy and cool. I am a bit melancholic. Holidays, no matter which one, have lost their magic for me. I am no longer filled with whatever it is that I’m supposed to have. I am no longer starry eyed. I have no wants for someone else to buy for me. And I have no desires to buy others’ love. I’ve grown old and definitely cynical. I’m calling it as it is. You can like it or not. You can like me or not. What you think and who you like are none of my business.

I am preparing sticky rice as my contribution to supper tonight at my sister-in-law’s. I still believe in something, doing my part in the grand scheme of living. I still am pursuing excellence in living as long as I am on this planet. Some days I am more cynical than others. But I still put one foot in front of the other, move, and smile if I can.

My sticky rice turned out well. 70 minutes on steam in the Instant Pot. Thanksgiving supper turned out well. My siblings and I agree to no more gifting each other at Christmas. I think we all breathed a collective sigh of relief. Takes a load off everyone’s plate. Getting together for a meal is plenty of celebration. Gifting each other with good food cooked and shared is plently. Keeping it simple. Today is just another day – lived to the best of my ability. I give thanks as always.