Fighting Back the Jungle

Happy Thanksgiving to those of you to celebrate it; may the rest of you have a day also featuring pie.

I’m thankful for many things, and one of them is the past six months on the road with my splendid spouse, and all the adventures and laughs we had there. We put a lot of miles on the car. We kissed stingrays and fed hibiscus blossoms to three-toed sloths. We visited a lot of friends and family, and a number of roadside attractions. I’m very lucky to have had the luxury of that journey.

I’m thankful to have a home to return to, and to have all the things that so many lack: shelter, heat, food, clean water, access to health care, electricity, education. Grateful not to live in a war-torn country. And for all that I have beyond that, which is considerable.

I am, as always, thankful for my friends and family, both near and extended. For the chance to be part of a grand company of speculative fiction writers (including SFWA, which I am grateful for the chance to work with), some of whom have influenced me, others whom I hope I have influenced in some small way. I’m grateful for all the friends I don’t know yet, who I’ve chatted with online or tweeted at, but haven’t had the chance to meet yet face to face.

I am thankful for language and stories, and the gift I’ve been given in learning how to tell them. I’m grateful for new and wonderful stories, and re-reading others, finding them like long-lost friends. I’m grateful to be able to string words together in a pleasing fashion, and for the ability to appreciate it when others do it particularly nicely. I am grateful that I was able to write some good stories this year.

I’m grateful for this world and all its wonders, both of the heart and of the physical world. For the heroes and the volunteers and teachers and leaders and parents who keep the human race moving forward. I’m grateful for you, dear reader, and the fact that you take the time to read my words.

Goddess bless and godspeed. Have the happiest of holidays.

Today was a mournful day. Every morning I go grab coffee at a local coffee shop called Jitters, which has been around Redmond much longer than I have: 22 years to my 14. But now they’ve had to close their location (a repurposed bank building) and haven’t been able to find a new place.

They’re celebrating their last day in style: balloons, a big card for everyone to sign, and free coffee all day long, but there is a sad undertone to the merriment. We’d gone through the drivethrough, then came in to sign the card and say goodbye. Last week, I’d made sure to sign up for the mailing list, to be notified if they find a new location, but so far the manager hasn’t seemed very hopeful about that.

As we were coming towards the door, a gentleman was coming out. We nodded at each other and he paused. Both of us felt, I think, a need to mark the occasion, to acknowledge the Jitters bond. “Sad day,” he said. “Very sad,” I replied. Inside all the baristas were glammed out and a little shell-shocked, I think, that this day had come.

Meanwhile, I’ve bought a lovely Chemex in order to make coffee at home after reading a recent Chuck Wendig post about it. I fear that I finally have fallen into the Seattle trap and become a coffee snob. I even have some Tonx coffee coming, since they are willing to give you a free sample. And there’s a pleasing ritual to it, the dousing of the filter in hot water, then using that water to warm the mug. Wayne got me an electric kettle for Christmas after watching the two saucepan version of that dance, and it rocks.

Still, I will sorely miss Wendy and Megan and Amanda and all the rest of the cheerful Jitters crew.