These Are The Days.

Thanksgiving was a truly blessed event in our household.

We had family over, and did the traditional turkey. My nephew – who might be my kids’ favorite relative on the planet – showed up as “a surprise guest.” Everyone was happy.

Shane said a little prayer to launch dinner, and all the food was delicious. Shane did a magic show for us. We played a rousing game of Apples to Apples, and laughed like we were in a commercial. We ate dessert (thanks, Mom!) and had delightful conversation.

I would say I felt like we were part of a Norman Rockwell painting, but I’ve never been a fan of ol’ Norm. Instead, I felt like we were in an episode of the Brady Bunch.

Things go this way sometimes.

In fact, they go this way often. The house is usually a happy place to be. I’m fortunate to have wonderful family, and to be able to enjoy their company at any given moment, every day of the year.

These are the days that go by with us snapping a few photos, making a few memories, and smiling more than we usually do. These are also the days I rarely write about, because I write when I’m stressed.

I recently heard Adele talking, on The Today Show, about her songwriting. Adele’s songs, while incredibly powerful, can be quite depressing.

Adele has a son now, a little boy, who has provided her with an entirely new happiness in her life.

The host asked her if this concerned her, since her songs tend to be written from a sad place. And Adele said, sure, she was worried because she thinks that it’s a lot easier to write about the sadness in her life.

I tend to agree. Sadness, heartbreak, anger – these are all emotions that inspire me to write.

But today, I couldn’t pass up the chance to say something pleasant.

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