THE LAND OF THE WITCHES

Saturday evening, Michael and I sat by ourselves at a table in the corner of a reception hall and watched as our friends Jenn and Wade made their way through the crowd, thanking people for coming to their wedding. I looked at the people in the crowd and realized that I hardly knew anyone there. There were less than a handful of people that I knew. I did not care about this because I was really only there to celebrate the union of Jenn and Wade. Also, Jenn had asked me to take some pictures of her during a private moment between Jenn and Wade when they would see each other for the first time before the ceremony. So Michael and I sat at our table, filling out the wedding games that had been left on the table and eating charcuterie. I said to Michael “I don’t get it. Why has Jenn latched onto me? Of all the people we’ve met through camp, what is it about me?” Look, I’m not saying that there’s something unlikable about me. It’s just that Jenn is cool, like Pink Lady Rizzo cool and while I’m not as prude as Sandy, I am probably as dorky and unhip as Sandy.

Michael said “Well, look at who Jenn’s just married. Wade is just a really good person and Jenn’s a really good judge of character. She recognizes good people when she sees them.” He’s not wrong about Wade. Wade is the nicest, most generous human. He’s interested in whatever you have to say no matter what you’re talking about. He’s a total nerd like me and he gives excellent hugs. Plus, when he looks at Jenn, his face says it all. She’s his one. Finding the one and having the opportunity to share your life with that person is a very special gift. The next morning, Jenn sent me a text thanking me for being there and taking pictures. I was in the middle of editing those pictures when she texted. I responded to her with a similar question I’d presented to Michael and told her that I was editing those photos for her now.

Honey just you being you. You are a beautiful genuine soul who is always willing to dive deep and talk about REAL shit. Idk. I just love you. You’re stuck with me.

Jenn’s a pretty amazing human to be stuck with, but I am still awed by how it is possible to continue to make these important friend connections as we grow older. Making new adult friends is hard. We are all ruled by ridiculous color coded calendars. Life is busy. I am lucky.

Jenn’s text surprised me, not because of the nice things she said, but by how she sees me as someone who is willing and easily talks about the hard things. It’s one of those comments that made me tilt my head to the side like a curious puppy and ask “is that true?” I think she might be a little right. Like for instance, I write about a lot of difficult things in this space. I pour my heart out here, but there’s some environments where this is not true. I have a grievance that I have been holding onto because I cannot seem to find a way to broach the subject without encountering defensive maneuvering. This is with a person that I have struggled to communicate with for years and a grievance that comes and goes. Recently though, it has become intolerable. I’m noticing that the longer I go without saying anything, the more likely I am to say something mean or snappish. I have done a lot of biting of my own tongue. This person does not create the kind of environment where I feel comfortable with talking about real shit. At least not in the way that Jenn does or some other people in my life.

Tomorrow, I fly to Boston where I will then take a two hour drive by myself down to Woods Hole and the Marine Biology. I will stay in a room by myself. Take meals by myself. There will be a few solo adventures in between doing an inventory of our lab space and closing it down for the winter. I predict there will be hours and hours of nothing but the voices in my own head and that this will be a good opportunity to organize and write down my thoughts. Watching Jenn and Wade make promises to each other, made me think about what I want in my own life. My want is going to require me to create a comfortable environment where I can dive deep into talking about the real shit. This means that I will need to be able to present my grievance in a clear and constructive manner. Basically, I’m going to spend a week not talking while trying to find a way to talk.

I’m going to the land of witches in in hopes of finding my voice and the courage to use it.

HOURS

Chad sent me a text asking if they could spend the night at our place Saturday night. They had been on the road in eight to ten hour stretches for over a week. I told him that there would be clean sheets and a warm bed for them and tacos. They arrived that evening, road weary, with their two dogs who were in desperate need of leg stretches. I gathered them all inside and then we kicked all of the dogs out to the backyard to bark it out. By bark it out, I mean Josephine had to explain the house rules to Sadie and Mabel. Loudly.

We ate. We laughed. We played games. We laughed even more. At one point, The Cabbage asked us “How do you guys know each other?” Chad and I looked at each other and shrugged. Chad replied “We met online.” Our story that we’ve explained to people so many times has finally become something we can now reduce to a simple three word sentence. That night, I dreamed of landing at an airport and then having to hitch hike home. When I arrived, Chris was there. He was still sick, but he was better. He said “I think the treatments are woking.” I don’t remember anything else from the dream, but I woke up early the next morning to find Chad sitting on the couch in our living room. I sat down at the opposite end of the couch and pulled my feet up underneath me for warmth.

This is the second time this month I have sat in this same position, in my pajamas with sleep crusty eyes and hair poking out at odd angles on top of my head, talking and visiting with Chad. The two of us are always the early birds and we end up whispering to each other while everyone else is asleep. It reminds me of that Folger’s commercial at Christmas when the older brother comes home to surprise the family. His kid sister is the only one that sees him sneak in during the early morning hours and they meet in the kitchen where she settles herself on a kitchen counter while he makes coffee. This is a rabbit hole thought that leads to the ongoing joke Chris and I had about a monkey’s paw, a joke he found so funny that I found a drawer in his desk filled with plastic monkey paw keychains.

Then, all too quickly, we were saying our goodbyes at 7 AM.

It seems inherent to always want more even though our relationship formed on less.

Time, time, time
See what's become of me
While I looked around for my possibilities. - Paul Simon

I thought that was the Bangles for the longest time, but discovered it is a Paul Simon original.

Time, time, time…..

Quality over quantity. This is the real lesson I am learning here.

I think the treatments are working.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

I had a bag of dried lupini beans that I purchased on a whim from the local Halal Market the last time we were in, stocking up on spices. I didn’t know anything about them other than they looked like lima beans, so I thought I’d just cook them like lima beans.

This batch of beans started out with promise. I had sautéed onions, bell pepper and garlic before adding the beans and stirring in a tablespoon of miso with the water that I added for cooking. I tossed in some salt, cajun spices and a bayleaf (for no reason) and let the beans cook for about twenty minutes before I tasted the broth to check the flavoring. I sipped the broth and said “This is not good.” Michael was in the middle of his weekly lunch prep and turned around to say “That’s not true…let me taste.” Then he tasted the broth and said “No..it’s fine….wait…this is not good.” Then we went down the list of things I had added to make it so horrible and bitter.

Beans…I had added beans. Lupini beans have to be soaked overnight, cooked until just tender, and then rinsed and soaked again for 5-7 days in order to remove bitterness.

It was quite a blow to my ego. I was left staring at my cast iron pot filled with what should have been a delicious healthy meal, but instead was a pot of ruin. I’m good at beans. It’s in my wheelhouse of cooking superpowers. I felt terrible. We ended up ordering out for Indian food, but not before I was texting Heather about my bean fail. Heather referred to them as ‘sneaky beans’. She told me that I had not failed at cooking beans; these were sneaky beans. Of course, she’s one hundred percent right and I knew/know this. I know that the only fault I had made was thinking these beans were just like all the other dried beans, but sometimes you need someone to reassure you.

Heather is always a good source for reassurance and I am so grateful for her, but she is not my only source. I am very blessed and thankful for my group of supporters and I can only hope that I give as good as I get.

MISSED CONNECTIONS

Saturday morning, I pulled myself out of bed to do my usual hunting and gathering routine. I’m going to confess that this is kind of a big deal. The usual Saturday morning routine has been disrupted in some way ever since the beginning of the new year. Some of the disruption has been entirely out of my control. Weather/illness/refrigerator delivery snafus are out of my control, but me just being too sleepy and tired on a Saturday morning is entirely within my power of control. This time, I got myself out of bed and out the door before 7:30 AM. I had a nice little breakfast and resumed my writing relationship with my Fortune Cookie journal, abandoning my other story for now until I know more about France, Germany and Nazis. Then I headed out for hunting and gathering.

I was in the produce section of Trader Joe’s and was reaching up to grab a bag of mixed greens, when the woman standing next to me said “Oh! You have a list! That’s so smart. I’ve already put three things in my cart that I didn’t even come in here for.” I laughed and said “I’m not so sure how smart it is or just crazy that I have a list.” Then I explained the meal planning food control situation I had going on with that list. We laughed and then parted ways. Except, we kept bumping into each other in different sections of the store. Each time, we’d have a brief conversation before moving on. At one point, our conversation went on long enough to cause a traffic jam in the freezer section. We both ended up returning our shopping carts at the same time and the woman laughed and said “we even finished at the same time!” The two of us laughed and said our goodbyes as we moved off to our own vehicles. I watched her car pull out of it’s parking spot and for a minute, I thought about running over to her car to properly introduce myself and maybe even exchange numbers.

Now, I have serious regrets about not getting her name and number.

It’s just that she was so fun and personable and likeable. I thought “This is a woman that I could be friends with! We could meet for coffee and or drinks.” I bet she’d be really into going to Camp Wildling. I feel like she’d fit right in with all of us. I feel like every Saturday morning from now on, I’ll be distractedly shopping in Trader Joe’s while searching for this woman. Then I have to find a way to approach her without being creepy or stalkery. Someone recently posted a romantic missed connection thing in Twitter and the people in Twitterverse found out who the missing parties were and got that couple together. I need something like this, but less romantic and more ‘let’s be friends’. So…I’m looking for a woman with light brown skin who was in the Kansas City, MO Trader Joe’s on Saturday morning January 29th around 8:30 AM. She was wearing a beautiful white, red floral print, head scarf. She mentioned her five year old, so I know she has at least one kid. She drove a white toyota four door thing, like maybe a Camry(?).

Lady, if you read this, I swear I am not a psychopath. I just want to be friends.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Monday

There was a Facebook reminder that popped up this week that I did not share. It was picture taken ten years ago of Talaura and I unlocking a lock inside a church. It was the first time I had visited New York and Talaura had the keys to the city. Those keys let you unlock secret places like the power box to a lamp in Bryant Park, which I did. When I opened that box, it was full of notes from others who had been there before me. This was the first time I had spent any length of time alone with Talaura and we had such a wonderful time as she toured me around, showing me her city. Then I dreamed about Talaura. She was showing me the ropes of the new office I had just started working in. She was glowing, healthy, relaxed. She seemed happy. I don’t know what else happened in that dream. All I know is that I woke without an urgent sense of dread and worry, which is rare these days.

Talaura called me from somewhere in Arizona that very same morning after my dream. Her sister is moving to Hawaii and the two of them were driving the family cars to California to be loaded on a ship. Talaura called me to specifically tell me about all of the things she knew that I would want to photograph. She talked about the landscape, the sparseness, the poverty and all the random shacks of people living off the grid. Talaura said “I know you would want to stop all the time to take pictures.” As she talked of all that she was seeing on this drive West, I wished with my whole heart that I was sitting in that car with her. I told her that I would never make it to California because of all of the stopping. It was so good to hear her voice, but it was more than good to hear the joy in her voice. It made my heart swell. It does not go unnoticed to me that this memory and that dream would show up at the same time; nor does it go unnoticed how well Talaura knows me. She saw the magnificent landscape around her and thought “Cindy would want to photograph all of this.”

Hearing joy and excitement in the voices of those you care about is infectious. Having a friend who knows you so well that they call you with joy and excitement because they know you would appreciate the description of the view they are witnessing is priceless. I am a very fortunate human being.

DOING ALL OF THE THINGS

We toured Elmwood Cemetery on Sunday. This is one of the pics taken with my Nikon.

8 Likes, 1 Comments - Cindy Maddera (@elephant_soap) on Instagram: "We toured Elmwood Cemetery on Sunday. This is one of the pics taken with my Nikon."

Robin and Summer were in town over the weekend. They actually came into town Thursday evening. So I took Friday off to run around town with the two of them. We were moving around slowely Friday morning and I opened my email to discover that Margaret and Philip were also in town. They wanted to know if I could meet them for lunch. I told them we'd all meet them for lunch! It was one of those nice surprises where the Universe aligns the planets in a unique way and we were all together again. For those of you who don't know, I worked for Margaret. Robin worked for Philip. Our labs were right next to each other and there was lots of collaborating and scientific shenanigans. These people are my scientific family. We all squeezed into my car and I drove us to the Nelson. We ate lunch in the cafe, which is in a very loud courtyard and we ended up yelling our conversation to each other. Afterward, we all tooled around the museum. Then I got Margaret and Philip tickets to the Picasso exhibit and we parted ways. It was nice.

I then showed Robin and Summer my favorite things at the Nelson. They still have the Dorothea Lange photography exhibit up, which is my most favorite exhibit. It's a display of her (and few other photographers) photographs taken during the Great Depression, when she was a photojournalist for the Farm Security Administration. Her images and the notes she took for each one not only gives us a history of that time, but tells the stories of people displaced by a dust bowl and job loss. Deep personal stories. You can see the stress and hardships etched into the lines of all the faces, even the children. I am fascinated by her images as much as I am fascinated that we had a government who hired photographers to document our history. There was a time we intentionally hired artists to tell our stories. The images she captured of that time are equally beautiful and sorrowful. You can feel the grit of the dirt blowing in the air. Dorothea Lange is the kind of photographer that inspires me. She was the first woman to be awarded a Guggenheim fellowship. 

After dragging the girls around the Nelson, we spent the rest of our time together eating and drinking and talking and laughing. Michael and I introduced them to IKEA. We ate famous Kansas City BBQ. It was a much needed visit and I am so happy they came up to see us. I spent the Sunday after they left, moping around a cemetery with the boys. One of our friends, Tom, is involved with the historic society in some way. He took us all on a tour of two historic cemeteries in Kansas City. The first one we went to was Elmwood Cemetery, which is on the list of National Registry of Historic Places. It was designed by George Kessler, the same architect behind many of our parks and boulevards. Many of Kansas City's founders are buried in this cemetery and it is filled with beautiful headstones and mausoleums. We traipsed around the cemetery while Tom pointed out note worthy graves and told us the history around this person and that. I learned that guys who founded Cheeze-its and Post-it notes are from Kansas City and are buried in this cemetery. 

I took my fancy pants camera with me for the tour partly out of being inspired by the  Dorothea Lange exhibit, but also in hopes of just spending some time with that camera. I didn't really expect much out of the shots I was taking mostly because the day was gray and overcast. I assumed that I would end up turning everything into black and white images. At one point, while switching back and forth between the fancy pants camera and my phone camera, Wilson (I know a guy named Wilson...he's fabulous) asked me what the difference was in using my Nikon vs the phone camera. I looked at him and said "Honestly? Not much." Both cameras have about the same megapixals sensors. Both cameras take similar photos when using automatic settings. The Nikon takes better quality images under ideal lighting situations. I prefer the phone camera for low light situations when I don't want to use a flash. The Nikon takes time. I tend to be more mindful of how I look at my surroundings when I look through the view finder on the Nikon. The pictures from this camera have to be transferred to my computer before I can upload them. The phone is like an Instamatic, meaning your pictures go straight to the internet. 

I did not explain any of this to Wilson when I answered his question. I think I said something about like "it just depends on how I'm feeling as to which camera I'm going to use." That's kind of true. If I'm feeling lazy, I reach for the phone camera because my phone is always on me, but after really thinking about his question, I knew that the answer was more complex. I like using my fancy pants Nikon when I actually get it out and use it because it makes me feel like I'm doing something special. Even if I just end up take a bunch of crap pictures. I've been thinking a lot about photography projects for the next year and how I would like to find a way to sell some prints. I'd like to do another 365 day project that focuses on my body, in hopes that will help me see a better version of myself that I am having a hard time seeing these days. I have also gotten lazy with lighting. I end up doing a lot of editing and filtering that I shouldn't have to do. I tweak here and there is one thing, but I've been doing more than the usual tweak. I've had several people ask me for camera advice lately and I'd like to be a bit more knowledgable in my answers.

Really, my biggest plan for the new year includes more actual doing rather than wanting to do. Yes, I realize that some might think it's to early to be talking about New Year plans. I think it's too early to put up Christmas decorations, so we're even.  

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Home decor

5 Likes, 1 Comments - Cindy Maddera (@elephant_soap) on Instagram: "Home decor"

I met with my doctor yesterday to discuss the lab results from some tests I had done a couple of weeks ago. I was a little bit nervous about this because the blood draw and urine sample seemed excessive, but they were just being thorough. Turns out, everything is just fine. Cholesterol is steadily declining. I am back to the weight I was the last time I was in. Sugar levels are excellent. My doctor is happy with my diet and my exercise routine. He did think that I should update my tetanus shot. The new tetanus vaccine last ten years now and covers whopping cough. I tried to negotiate against getting it. My doctor is pretty great and told me that I didn't have to do anything, but he did it in the same tone of voice my childhood doctor would use when I tried to get out getting a shot. So...I got the tetanus shot.

I have had a few things recently that has made me anxious. I was worried about my lab results. I was worried about paying some bills. I had to present a poster on some research I have been doing at a work retreat. I was stressed about that. So this week I am thankful that all of those things making me anxious have been solved this week. Lab results were good. Poster presentation was a success. Payday came before the checking account fell into the negative numbers. I am also reminded of the consequences of worrying about things I cannot control. Sure, I can take care of my body and eat right. I can prepare for a presentation. I can minimize spending. I cannot control my genetics. I cannot control people's reaction to my work and, unfortunately, I cannot just make money appear out of thin air. That would be a nice trick though.  

I am also very thankful for the time I got to spend with Talaura and her family. I am thankful that I could show Talaura this new place I call home and that Sarge was comfortable in my home. Talaura's nephews and niece are hilarious teenagers. There was a moment during dinner on Sunday with all of them when one of them randomly shouted out something so funny that I nearly sprayed my drink all over my dinner plate. I couldn't breathe from laughing so hard. I am thankful for that time. My prayer of thanks for this week is a simple one. Gratitude for well spent time with loved ones. Gratitude for good health. Gratitude for minor success stories. 

Gratitude for you.

Happy Thankful Friday!

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Today we left Chris in this baby T-Rex.

5 Likes, 1 Comments - Cindy Maddera (@elephant_soap) on Instagram: "Today we left Chris in this baby T-Rex."

My friend, Heather from Oklahoma, was passing through my area one evening this week and we were able to meet for dinner. It was really good to see her face and get caught up on her life. She and her husband Scott had just had their first child right before Chris and I moved. One of the last things we did before leaving OKC was to go over to their house and smell their baby's head and give her an Ugly Doll. I can't believe that child is six years old now. Any way, we had a nice evening catching up and telling stories. All is well in their home and their life is full. Some where along the line the topic of Chris's ashes came up. Heather said that she had been meaning to ask me about them and how I had to be starting to run out of ashes. I told her about seeing an end to it all. 

The first time I opened Chris's coffee can to take out ashes, I thought that I would never reach a point where I would run out. It seemed as though I never made a dent in the amount of Chris's ashes left in that can. It was like a bottomless can of ashes. When I opened it to fill up a container for our last trip, the Abe Lincoln Tour, I felt the spoon hit the bottom of the coffee can. It sort of jarred me. I paused in my task because it suddenly felt like this thing that I do with Chris's ashes was really something finite. There is going to be a day when I run out of ashes and I have mixed feelings about this. I am thankful, though, for the knowledge that one day I will not be posting about the places where I have left Chris. I am thankful that it is just a chapter in my life and that one day I will go on vacation without researching interesting places to leave his ashes. I just keep thinking about that moment in Up when Carl realizes that Ellie's memory book doesn't end with her dream of seeing Paradise Falls. It is a bitter sweet kind of gratitude. Relief to have completed this drawn out memorial and a sadness over to be finally done with it all.

I do still have doubts about my decision for what I do with Chris's ashes. I can imagine running into him in the afterlife and him saying "What the fuck? You've scattered me all over the damn place. This is what you decided to do with me?!?" I easily shrug those doubts aside because he never gave me any kind of answer for what he wanted. Also, there is a lot of humor involved in leaving Chris's ashes in different places. I know he would find the whole thing hilarious. I'm thinking I need to plan something big for that last bit of ashes. Thailand or outer space or maybe that's the Appalachian trail trip. I don't know. I am thankful that I don't look back and think about the things we didn't get a chance to do together, but all of the things we did get to do. These new adventures for me are honoring Chris and his views on life. I am thankful for Michael who has and is 100% on board with all of this. In fact, he encourages me to bring extra ashes with us on trips in case there turns out to be more than one ideal spot for Chris. I am thankful he understands.

I am so, so grateful to have been able to spend time with Heather this week and meeting some her friends. I am thankful for the rain that has broken our heat wave. I am thankful for the purple hulled peas that are ready for harvesting in our garden. I am thankful for my yoga mat. I am thankful for you.

Here's to a lovely weekend and a super Thankful Friday. 

THROW EVERYTHING IN THE BOX

Tilt

4 Likes, 1 Comments - Cindy Maddera (@elephant_soap) on Instagram: "Tilt"

This was probably the fullest weekend that we have had in a really long time. The house filled up with friends and family starting on Friday and stayed that way for the whole weekend. There were plenty of hands to help me prepare for Michael's party and we got things done so efficiently that there was extra time for relaxing in the backyard. We had two evenings of sitting around the fire pit. All of the boys got added to our doorway where we mark the growth progress of the Cabbage and where we tend to also mark the height of guests. It is my favorite doorway of all the doorways. I got to spend some much missed hours with Amy's little one where she told me knock-knock joke after knock-knock joke and Boo Boo Butt was always at the door. I ate cake and relaxed in the hammock. 

I looked at my phone today and realized that I only took a handful of pictures over the weekend. Most of those pictures are of Amy's little monster who is the most hilarious child that never stops moving or talking. So you can guess that most of the images are blurry. I have a weekend photo folder of a handful of blurry images. And it is perfect. Those blurry images are a true representation of the weekend. Colors and sounds swirled together with the smell of a campfire. That's what this past weekend was and usually how weekends filled with friends and family tends to go. There are always the moments that you want to stretch and pull out like pink taffy. These are the kind of moments that can't be captured in a picture.

There's a handful of us who will bust out laughing any time someone in the group yells out "WHERE'S MY COOKIE?!". Terry learned more about the feral hogs of Oklahoma then he ever thought he'd probably ever learn. Our backyard looked the best it has ever looked, but not because of all of the yard work Michael and I did. Our backyard looked good filled with our people with the dog and a couple of little kids running around chasing bubbles. The backyard was down right perfect when the sun dropped down below the horizon with the fire in the fire pit roaring. We'd watch the bats circle above us while someone took a turn telling a story or joke. 

So...I don't have a whole lot of pictures from the weekend. I've taken those moments, the stories and words, and I've tucked them away in it's own special memory box.  

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Sassy

"Sassy"

Yesterday morning, I stepped outside with my cup of coffee to do my morning loop before heading back to my desk. The crisp Fall air hit my face and I had a memory, or a vision really, of Robin zipping up her gray hoodie and stuffing her hands in her pockets as we walked out the door for daily walk. This was exactly the type of weather that would make Robin where a hoodie. Those were the days we meticulously scrutinized the weather reports. We loved the walk we would take outside that took us up to the Capitol Building and around, but we hated cold. More importantly, we hated cold mixed with wind. We'd check a couple of different weather reports and then look out the window at the flag pole at the entrance of the Veterans Hospital. If the American flag was waving at us, we walked inside. 

I hardly ever check the weather now. The other day, I rode my scooter to work with gray clouds looming overhead. As I walked across the parking garage, the security guard asked me if I thought it was going to clear up by the afternoon. I looked at the sky slightly surprised that it was so gray and said "you know? I have no idea what the weather is going to do today, but I rode any way." This is why I'm constantly getting caught in rain storms. Weather is less variable here mostly because the wind is not a factor. Oh that Oklahoma wind. In the summer, it is a hot hairdryer blowing in your face and in the winter it is a knife cutting into your bones. I don't know why I thought of Robin in her hoodie. It's probably because I miss those walks as much as I know that she does. I am grateful for those walks. They were more therapy sessions for each of us than exercise. We'd talk about all of the things. We'd laugh about all of the things. Sometimes we'd even cry about all of the things. Those walks forged our friendship, a friendship that I'm truly grateful for. 

The temperatures here have officially turned to Fall. It was forty nine degrees outside when I left the house this morning. Last night Michael said that the season for me being cold all the time is here. He said this as he was throwing a quilt over us on the couch. My days of joyful scooter rides, walks outside and bike rides are numbered. So I am thankful for these days right now where I can still do those things without cringing. This weekend may be the weekend I pull up things in the garden and clean out the beds for next spring. This may also be the weekend we buy some pumpkins. One thing for sure is that this will be a weekend to be outside, soaking in the sun. I am thankful for crystal blue skies, green tomatoes and collard green sprouts. I am thankful for cheesy mashed potatoes and broccolini. I am thankful for my little Josephine who just got her haircut. Now she looks just like a Monopoly piece. And of course, as always, I am thankful for you.

Here's to a weekend of apple cider and a truly Thankful Friday!