It is Thanksgiving Day, but it's not a celebration. It's a placeholder, merely a spot in time, where we all wait and hope and pray that the tide of the Pandemic will be turned. It seems callous to proclaim thanks in the face of so much suffering. Tempting the Fates, almost.
We'll go about our business as usual, trying not to think about what we are missing, whom we are missing. And we'll have pie, because Pie. It's the best we can do.
NinjaHead resides with a sesquipedalian woman known herein as Herself. Herself has a Beloved Husband, with whom she shares three young adult Offspring. When she is not writing Things, Herself nurtures a visceral fondness for small furry creatures. The household menagerie, which has varied in size and composition over the years, presently contains four exuberant young bunnies. Someday, there will be more critters, for she loves them tremendously.
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