This year, I am thankful for opportunity and knowledge, for art and life, as every year. I am thankful for the public school system, for teachers and medical professionals, for flannel toddler jammies and organic free range turkey.
I am thankful for wine, and family, and butter. I am thankful that I live in a country that allows me the freedom to both enjoy the trappings of a holiday while intellectually disagreeing with the moral rectitude of its history. I am thankful for the teaching justice of diversity, and for the enduring power of friendship.
I am thankful for books, and the smell of leaves on the grass, and for the music of the seasons. I am thankful for Roomba vaccum robots, which entertain cats and children alike. I am thankful for the Internet, font of dubious curiosities that it is.
I am thankful for New England and its rolling, new-ancient realms, for the scent of brine on the seashore and conifer in the mountains.
I am thankful for brotherhood, and equality, and artisan jams.
I am thankful for the Cheese Shop of Salem and autumnal adventure, and for the quiet tenacity of the 99 percent. I am thankful for steampunk serials and glitchy code, for Ikea furniture and bar carts, for self-watering planters and Cook’s Illustrated and shallow field camera lenses.
But mostly I am thankful for him, and for her, and for us. Always.