I've written before about the gift of gratitude and how sometimes we need a little help to focus on what's good instead of what we wished were better. How many of us sit at a Thanksgiving table laden with a ton of traditional fare, football games playing in the background, the hangover and food coma just around the bend, our attention fixed on anything other than giving thanks? I believe this happens more often than not, but maybe I'm projecting my own gratitude inadequacies on the rest of humanity.
Mars and Venus
I'm devouring the latest (and penultimate!) Charley Davidson book, The Trouble with Twelfth Grave by Darynda Jones. This series is beloved because Charley is a phenomenal character; getting into her head is a joyous privilege. The plot has become a tad complicated, but Ms. Jones gives us a primer on events thus to date and I'm following along pretty well. In this latest installment, Reyes, Charley’s smoking hot husband and deity, has gone to Hell and returned a changed man. [Go figure, Hell has quite an effect on all beings] Charley, a deity in her own right and the Grim Reaper on this plane of existence (complicated, I told you), is trying to discern whether there is anything of the husband she knows and loves left in Reyes' distorted psyche. And while the divine aspects of the story strain credulity the heart of the issue does not.