Skip to main content

Thanksgiving Joys



As a golden dawn breaks against a deep blue night sky a picturesque crescent Moon hovers just above the horizon . . .  “tis the season” of Thanksgiving. The maple trees are in full fall regalia. Many have deposited their leaves. This year we have a lot to be thankful for. We have our health, our family, and yes, that includes Missy and Junior – the tabbies.

. . . Its 4:00 am, can’t sleep, too many details including dinner to be prepared. This year - like many before - Lori and I are hosting Thanksgiving dinner for friends and family. Lori is the chef and my self-appointed post is to prepare the house for guests. 

This is no small endeavor, the preparations really began about three weekends ago, once the commitment was made. That’s when the repairs really began. A house becomes a home when the family accepts the reality there are always little things that demand repair. At our house these repairs are always neglected until guests are expected.

Handyman - I’m not - for example, the guest bathroom desperately needed a new faucet this year. Sounds simple enough, we have a Home Depot about two-blocks away - you’ve heard the slogan - More Savings. More Doing. Savings maybe, it’s the doing part that befuddles me it seems. What should take about an hour at most, takes me three. You never have the proper tool, the project always presents a multitude of unforeseen challenges, and crawling around in tight cramped quarters is very painful. However, once the job was satisfactorily completed - for me - there is an immense amount of pride.

So, the mother-in-law arrives, after two days of using the new bathroom faucet I had to ask, “Do you like the new faucet?” “I never noticed it,” she replies, with a bewildered look! To save face she immediately begins to grumble about the pitfalls of the old one, that is completely gone. Now, you must understand, there are times she stays with us for weeks at a time, oh well, so much for worrying about the details.

Then, there are the blinds on the picture window - oh brother . . . Yes, this Thanksgiving, just days before, we learned Lori’s brother and his wife would join us for the weekend. Knowing they would sleep on the sofa required cleaning the area behind, around, and above, (including the windows) this section of the house - another major project. Yes, for the handy-man about a four hour job.

Well, it turns out the cats like to chew the draw stings that provides the only way to raise and lower the window blinds. So, I’ll solve the problem before it becomes one. You see, at night its completely dark in the back of the house. Our back yard abuts to a ecological study zone that no-one ever enters. The solution, just trim the draw strings, burn the ends (so they don’t fray), clean everything, and adjust the blinds on the window, revealing sweeping views of the backyard.

We examined the completed project with arms crossed, thrilled with the results, perfection! Completely convinced there would be absolutely no reason to lower the blinds (resulting in the draw strings completely lost in the box and unraveling from the pulleys). We moved on to the next project, the kitchen . . . 

Of course, you guessed it - the next morning - the blinds were lowered and the draw strings completely unwound. “The draw strings simply disappeared?” says the sister-in-law.

So, if you’ll excuse me, it looks like another trip to Home Depot and the probability of another three hour repair job.

Yes, the unexpected joy of family and the holidays - enjoy yours!

Comments

Most Popular of All Time

Time Travel, Roving Mics, and Muscle Memory

In this episode, the 2026 Sinkankas Symposium. Let’s get one thing straight: I didn’t arrive in a DeLorean. No flux capacitor, no dramatic lightning strike—just a Saturday parking pass and a name badge. And yet, somewhere between the rotunda doors and the first handshake, it happened anyway. This past Saturday, April 25th, I was transported—effortlessly and completely—back in time at the 20th Annual Sinkankas Symposium on the GIA campus in Carlsbad. Walking into that magnificent main campus rotunda early with my colleagues, Paul Mattlin and Glenn Wargo, felt like wrapping myself in a familiar, gem-encrusted blanket. It was less a building, more a family living room where nobody ever really forgets your name. The halls were quiet (a rare and beautiful thing), and the soft echo of our footsteps on the polished floors sounded exactly as I remembered it. For a moment, it wasn’t 2026—it was April 1997, my first time walking onto the beautiful, brand-new GIA campus as Director of Alumni. Som...

Confidently Wrong: The Art of the AI Tall Tale

In this episode, A chat with Adamas the Chef on hidden recipes causing digital hallucinations. Pull up a chair and pour yourself a fresh cup of coffee—and please, for your own sake, taste it first. We need to have a quiet chat about why your computer sometimes decides to reinvent reality with the confidence of a five-star chef who has clearly lost his mind. In the world of technology, we call it a  hallucination . It sounds pretty dramatic, doesn’t it? As if the computer decided to ignore your instructions altogether in favor of a vivid, technicolor imagination that simply hasn’t met reality yet. But in truth, an AI hallucination isn’t a breakdown; it’s just a very confident, very polite mistake. Think of it like our friend Adamas , the Chef. Adamas is a master of the kitchen, but he is also a bit of a romantic who refuses to say “I don’t know.” When you ask him for a classic recipe he hasn’t made in years, he doesn’t stop to consult a cookbook—that’s far too pedestrian. Instead, ...

Ode To Gemology

For over 80 years, students of gemology have struggled with spectrums, bewildered by birefringence, and simply plagued by pleochroism. The following sonnet is guaranteed to bring a smile to your face, a glow to your heart, and a simple reminder that students of life and gemology rediscover nature's gifts every day.  Ode to Gemology , by a GIA on-campus student. Dispersion, fire, adventurescence. Orient, sheen, or iridescence. Refractive index, high or low. The luster should indicate that, you know. Polarization, double or single. What to do now, they intermingle. Pleochroic colors you really should see. Was that only two, or actually three? Birefringence should help you a lot. Use your polarizer and watch the spot. Now, did it jump most on low or high? Sure, you can get it if you really try! Your liquids should be an aid, I think. Does it float, suspend, or slowly sink? Just use your imagination now. (He doesn't see me wiping my brow.) Solid inclusions or only bubbles? Huh, th...

The Cowardice of Corporate Jargon

Picture this: an email lands in your inbox. A colleague—maybe even a friend—needs a favor, a second set of eyes, a moment of your time. You sigh, stare at the glow of your monitor, and type: “I’d love to help, but I just don’t have the bandwidth right now.” Hit send. Problem solved. Conscience clear. Except it shouldn’t be. Most of us have said or sent that line at least once, hoping it would land gently. On the surface, it’s perfect—efficient, polite, even self-aware. And that’s exactly the problem. It lets you decline without ever quite telling the truth. You didn’t just say no; you softened the discomfort of being human until it barely felt like a feeling at all. Instead of admitting, I’m overwhelmed , or I don’t have the energy , you reach for the sterile vocabulary of a server room. You turn a feeling into a metric. A boundary into a system limitation. Apologies, my data transfer rate is capped. Please submit a ticket to my emotional help desk. It’s a clever little trick—and an un...