Susan the lugubrious here, thankful for all of you who have found your way to the quiet little clothesline. (We're reviewing what works, what doesn't, and will be making changes to how comments are posted, some formatting issues, adding links and other improvements and would love feedback from our readers. Don't hold back.)

Unlike Barb, I slept in, then hit the day with a cup of delta-thick coffee, had a quiet read of the papers while Jim ran in the Turkey Trot, and was grateful that this year Thanksgiving isn't at my house and (don't tell) that our four children and four grands are happy and secure in their own far away lives and not racing through the house as I struggle to get a 26 pound turkey into the oven. Heresy, I know. They are here most years, and we revel in their company when they are, but this year we celebrated our 40th anniversary together in September and airfares from New Mexico, Seattle and and LA being what they are, enough already.

A quick caffeinated review of my own unwarranted good fortune.

' Only a geezer gal would mention good health, but after a bit of a scare, now attributed to "flukey" blood tests, I'm back to my disgustingly healthy self.

' People all around us are doing astonishing and selfless things every day without fanfare or financial gain. A powerful antidote to our nation's (mis)leaders.

' Fresh clean water bursts out of every faucet (okay, not the one on the second floor, and the kitchen's down to a trickle) and the lights come on as does the heat, all without any effort on my part -- only a cringing sensation that it's finite and fragile.

' Sunshine on my back and a 60 degree day, here in MN where we used to go sledding on Thanksgiving. Oh, wait. That cringing thing again. So, ditto on Barb for Al Gore -- if it's not too late.

' Thriving children and offspring (forget what I said above kids, I miss you) and the same old good lookin' good natured good guy I've been married to since I was a nymph, as in unformed young creature, not insect or fairie or anything else that might come to mind.

' My house, my friends, my community, city, and state -- proud and grateful for how we do things here.

' The sustaining connection between me and my sisters -- EN, AJ, DK and SBW -- which grows stronger and more loving as we age.

' A garden of eye-blasting beauty in Michigan that erupts out of rocky soil thinner than hoar frost, with little coaxing from me.

' Barb, who keeps the linen on the line no matter what.

' The turnaround in the recent elections and, according to my Bush countdown clock, only 788 days, 10 hours and 50 minutes left in Swaggerman's tenure.

Time to deal with the lettuce lying limp in the sink -- my simple contribution to the tryptophan feast this year. That, a bottle of champagne and a good mood.