Category: Thanksgiving

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It’s All Lagniappe

Given my youth (what the ‘rents and sibs never knew didn’t hurt ’em *heh*), I had no expectations of reaching 40, and once I did, I had NO idea what I’d do with the extra years. . . Everything—all the decades since—past then has been a gift.

Then I awoke to the reality: it’s ALL been a gift. All of it. I wake every day knowing I have not deserved or earned the blessing of life I now have. At my current age, paying the physical price of some of my youthful, *urm-cough*, misadventures, mishaps, and outright “oopsies” is a daily thing, but a price well worth paying if only for a cuddle with my Wonder Woman.

It’s 0830 and I’m still waiting, Holy Brew in hand, for my joints to wake up, though I have gotten a wee bit of yard work in anyway. Small price the aches, pains, and [innumerable other] just to be able to sit a few minutes and be blessed by The Holy Brew.

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Why I Am Grateful That I Do Not Have Any “Constitutional Rights”

(A different kind of Thanksgiving post)

“Constitutional rights” implies that rights emanate from the government. They do not. No form of government anywhere, at any time, can or could grant rights. We have natural, inherent rights that the Constitution supposedly obligates the federal government to protect. As the seminal document of our country explicitly and correctly states,

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights. . . ” Government’s only legitimate excuse for existence is to protect those rights. When it does not, it delegitimizes itself.

I believe this is an important distinction, one that should never be compromised or blurred in any way. So-called “rights” granted by a government are nothing but licenses and can be revoked. As Jefferson further said of but one inherent right, so all:

“The God who gave us life gave us liberty at the same time. The hand of force may destroy but cannot disjoin them.”

The “hand of force” is ONLY ever legitimately deployed in defense of inherent rights, never in attacking them, for attacking inherent rights = attacking the very lives of those to whom they belong. BTW, this is key in understanding the libertarian–lowercase “l”–non-aggression principle: initiating violence against another is wrong. Responding with violence to someone (or some organization) that is violating one’s rights or the rights of another is not wrong; it is just.

So, given the tendency of governments everywhere toward anarcho-tyrrany, or just outright tyranny, I am grateful that it is God and not governments Who grants us our rights.

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Be Thankful for the Little Things

Thankful for the little things. Oh, example? I just got to roast a seller on Amazon for completely screwing up an order. Sent it to an address two states away (“Your order has been delivered!” to some anonymous door in a town beginning with a different letter, having five fewer letters, total in its name, with a zip code COMPLETELY different to mine). Had to jump through hoops JUST to find out the company had then retroactively canceled the order w/o even the courtesy of notifying me.

So, hence the roast. Made me smile. Still have to wait another week/week-and-a-half to get the item from a reputable company (Rockler–always good to do business with, and I wish I had searched there for the item first. Naturally. *heh*)

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Give Thanks. . .

To Whom?

“Gratitude” expressed toward an impersonal universe is meaningless. And so with all blessings, whatever their apparent source seems to be. For example, while I am grateful to my Wonder Woman for her love, I also gratefully acknowledge that God its source.

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Giving Thanks

Giving thanks in all things great and small, I am thankful that some small vestiges of the republic remain. . .

“The higher the pretensions of our rulers are, the more meddlesome and impertinent their rule is likely to be.” – C.S. Lewis

And while I am giving thanks for all things great and small, this, in Horsforth, West Yorkshire, England (Leeds Trinity University) leads me to express my gratitude for the Declaration of Independence, et seq. (Sidenote: were I a lecturer at this school I WOULD POST THE SYLLABUS IN ALL CAPS. Just sayin’.)

Lecturers Warned Not to Use Capital Letters to Avoid Scaring Students

(I would note that the National Review needs a literate headline writer who understands how syntax affects semantics. Should be, “Lecturers Warned to Not Use Capital Letters to Avoid Scaring Students.” I’m thankful I can skip the rest of the article and avoid other such crappy writing, since I have previously read the information elsewhere.)

I’m also thankful I am not disabled like those folks who can only put their pants on one leg at a time.

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Little Blessings

So, early on the morning of the coldest day in a year, “someone” (*cough*not gonna say who but you know who you are) let our lil rescue kitty out into the cold, shortly before 4” of snow began to fall. By 0500, she had. . . disappeared. So, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, through Thursday AM, with snow on the ground and temps in negative numbers overnight (and not above freezing during the day), lil Pixel. . . dealt with it.

I kept putting food out. Her fav bed was in her cat carrier with bags of “donation clothing” over the carrier for insulation and a heating pad inside the bed cover. Food kept disappearing but kept not seeing Pixel and got no response to calls. Saw tracks that looked like they were hers, but no cat.

Last checkup “yesterday” was ~0100 this morning. Again, food was gone but no cat. Refilled the food container.

Got up this AM and went out with food to check, and food was gone. Saw movement to the south. Pixel. Called, she came. Pet her. Tried picking her up and she ran. Called again, and the second time was the charm.

Seems no worse for wear, though she did demolish a large bowl of water.

Yeh, yeh, it’s just a cat, and a “stray” cat at that. But still, small blessings.

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It’s the Little Things

On being thankful for little things. . .

I am thankful. . . that I spent $0.00 for a book that starts with a sentence that is first person, present tense, and moves on to a second sentence that is present tense, passive voice. Why am I thankful I spent $0.00? Because I can send it to the bit recycler with no remorse whatsoever, and because I feel no desire, need, or obligation to subject myself to the lousy writing.

Moving on. MUCH better things to spend “eye time” on.

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Thanksgiving

I have, for about as long as I’ve been blogging and, even before in other contexts, written Thanksgiving posts/articles/letters about the many reasons most folks in our society have for being thankful and more than a few specific reasons I have for being thankful. . . and to Whom.

This year? Notsomuch. I’ll limit myself to two comments about gratitude/thankfulness: with very few exceptions, folks in our society who cannot find many reasons to be grateful [to others, to society in general, and, more importantly, to God] for their blessings are just itchin’ for a fight. Ingrates.

The next: anyone who wakes up in the morning and is NOT in Hell (the actual afterlife place of eternal torture) should be grateful for God’s grace, because, on our own merit, we all deserve that. Period. If one is not headed to Hell as one’s ultimate destination, it is only because one has elected to accept God’s gracious gift of salvation. If one has NOT elected to accept God’s grace and is not yet in Hell, again, it is by His grace they are not.

Be thankful for that.

Continue reading “Thanksgiving”

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Thankful, much?

I usually do a sort of semi-mini-micro-nano “deeper” than usual post for Thanksgiving. After all, our wedding was the day after, back in the day (specifically planned that way to make travel for family easier to effect), 14 years ago, around this time, my Wonder Woman was just a month and a scooch back from the dead (no, really; but not “Zombie Wonder Woman”–no), etc.

But today, I’d like to point out a little thing I am grateful for.

When I was a kid, starting sometime in grade school, everywhere we were for Thanksgiving, the B&W TVs were tuned to the Thanksgiving parades and, when food wasn’t being consumed or music being made, likely a football game or two (except my maternal grandmother’s house; she forbade the thing during such family gatherings; kids? Outside to play. Grownups? I have no idea. I was a kid. Outside. Playing.)

So, lotsa watching parades as a kid (except at Grandmother’s House!). For me, that meant, “blah-blah-blah-blah-blah–HORSES. blah-blah-blah-blah-blah–HORSES. blah-blah-blah-blah-blah–HORSES.” When I got into high school, parades meant something different: “Play-play-play-play-play–HORSESHIT! Play-play-play-play-play–HORSESHIT!”

I am thankful today that we’re going by Grandmother’s House Rules. NO PARADES.