I had a great Thanksgiving. Lots of travel, but a good time.

For the past few years, my grandparents have been unable to host us for Thanksgiving due to their age and other logistical reasons, so they have traveled to eat with us near Dallas at my sister's house.

This year, we didn't think it was a good idea for them to drive, so we went to the farm to pick them up, and spent a night there.

Since they've been coming to us, I hadn't been to my grandparent's farm in about three years, and everything was the same as it always was, except for the wheelchair ramp leading up to the door. And the raised commode in the bathroom, and the wheelchair in the living room. Everything was the same.

They are getting old. I miss them as they were: young, spry and set in their ways.

My parents went outside to get something out of the car, and were outside for a long time, so I went outside, and they were standing in the yard, looking up, and marvelling at the stars. It was awe-inspiring... you can see so many! It was magical.

My tendacy towards piles of clutter is apparently heriditary. My grandparents love to read, and there are stacks of magazines everywhere. It's comforting to know that I'm not just a slob: I'm genetically predisposed to clutter up my house.

Life is good. Happy December.