Because, of course, the things I have to be thankful for don't begin or end today.
I'm grateful for a lot of things, all of the time.
I'm thankful to be loved, and have always been loved. I've been cherished as a child, and I've been treasured as a woman. I've had my share of heartbreak, a darker thread through the tapestry of my days, but in the end it all comes out right and bright - and I am always conscious of how wonderful it is to have family... and also to have friends who laugh at one's never ending puns and understand my sorrows, friends who have freely shared the things they are good at and friends who have received the things that *I* am good at with grace.
I'm thankful for being given the gift of living my dream, of doing what I love to do, of being granted the privilege of tellingmy stories and of having an audience who appears to enjoy them. I am grateful beyond belief for the help that I've been given in my endeavours, for the presence of a brilliant and enthusiastic agent and for a bevy of fantastic editors. I'm grateful to all those who read my books (you - yes, YOU, out there, all of you). I'm grateful that I appear to have lucked into a career that many covet but a handful are granted.
I'm thankful for being able to lie in my bed in the evening with a soft reading light above my head, and listen to the patter of rain on my roof. For my home, for its books and its music and its laughter and the food in its pantry and the Christmas presents which I've been wrapping last week tucked away in the back room awaiting the arrival of the tree. I'm grateful for my cedars and my rhododendrons and my tulips and even my damn blackberries - because they all belong in the climate of the Northweset, and that is where I am lucky enough to live.
I'm thankful to be owned and adored and bossed and bullied by two adorable cats - a house isn't a home without something small and furry that loves you without quarter (inasmuch as a CAT is capable of this, that is). This morning I got a snuggle from my standoffish little queen who came to my bed as I was waking up and curled up in the crook of my arm and purred up a sweet litle storm.
I'm thankful for the glow of memory, for the scintillating hard-to-look-at brilliance of a promise of tomorrow, for the winterlight of the November day outside in the here and now. There is light in my life. I am grateful.