Gratitude

No turkey day here . . . and no turkeys, although free-range chickens appear out of nowhere all over the city. On campus, by the bus stop, at the foot of my apartment, and none of them seem to care that they look out of place.

Frankly, I don't miss turkey at all.

But I do miss my people, and I'm moved to express gratitude for so many special people in my life. One of the most articulate spokespersons for gratitude in my family is this one (who, when this photo was taken, had just treated himself to a haircut) . . .

And these are ones I also miss sorely . . .

I'm grateful for Patton sons, Davis sibs, as well as far-flung family in New Zealand, the UK and Czech Republic. . . for my CWP colleagues who became lifelong friends and my LSSP buddies and colleagues in the English department . . . for Peace Studies and Peace Corps cohorts and AI student activists, and more.  Jane. UU. Oakland buddies. Book Club. China has given me many new friends and colleagues, but I want to give a special thanks to friends and family back home. I'm grateful for dogwood days in the Ozarks, for all those family dinners at 1753 Trenton Drive and 10 Middlebury Lane, for the 605 South Fifth Street gang and for the Other Mother who has always been the better half of my working brain. As only she will understand, thank you Neila.

Special thanks to Mary, Jim, Ann, David, Ted, and Cathy for coming to visit me in China.

And thanks to every writing teacher I've ever known, Miriam especially . . . I've never thanked you enough for all those hours you've invested in creating novel assignments and for the hundreds and hundreds of hours you've spent thoughtfully responding to your students. John. Hak. And special thanks to those who have ever taken on directing a writing program . . . Marty, Jo Ann, Amy, Donna, Doug, Howard, and others. Cheryl and Dana.

Xie xie!