I’m sitting at home, wearing one of my husband’s sweaters with all of the lights turned on in the house. I’ve heated some frozen vegetable gyozas for a snack and taken a break from writing to, well, write something else. There are many things to be thankful for, but my husband is far away and being in a group of other people would only remind me more of that, so I’ve elected to ignore the holiday.

So, I’m thankful that he left one of his sweaters at home. I’m thankful that we can talk to each other even though he’s still in Iceland (and thank you Skype for making that free). And I’m thankful that I have time to write a couple of chapters while everyone else is eating turkey.