It's the Eve of Thanksgiving. Tomorrow I'm going (as the guest of my best friend Linda) to her sister-in-laws home. Prior to this I would spend this holiday with her sister-in-laws (Linda's husbands) mother. I loved her. Then she died.
I love my best friend too in a way that astounds me. She is a born-again Christian. I am a card carrying heathen.
The party is a pot-luck. I've tested recipes for days.
My friends sister-in-law was married to Jim Jannard for 7 years. He's the guy who owns Oakly.
Needless to say, it is a high falutin' affair. I'm one of the peasants who gets in.
It's always interesting. An impressive mansion with no one in particular who wants to talk to me with the exception of my friend, her husband and the other orphan, my friends husbands best friend, Rick. His Uncle invented Rebar. He and I, orphans and best friends of this couple, oddly, share the same last name.
Once a year I drift into this world of affluence.
I have one true friend whom I admire despite our religious differences. She goes to church. I am a pagan.
On the Eve of Thanksgiving I would like to thank God, if there is a God and I'm not saying that there is, for my best friend Linda.
If a Christian and a Pagan can love each other... anyone can get along.