Quickly ignoring my unconscionable and increasingly glaring failure to blog with any regularity, I'll mention that I'm looking forward to enjoying Thanksgiving next week near Challis, Idaho, with my sister's family.
I note that I've blogged on the subject of her house and large property on thirteen occasions since 2017 -- most recently this past June when my far-flung family met there for something of a reunion, including, most notably, a rafting run down the Salmon River. Her property abuts Salmon-Challis National Forest, and abuts it so closely that I can look out my bedroom window at the wire fence a few feet away, marking the boundary.
I've seen the Challis property in sunshine and in snow, when choked with brush fire smoke and when blessed by the dying beams of an eclipsing sun. There are horses to ride, dogs to run with, cats to pet, and even bunnies -- many of them -- to cuddle. Not much more that I can say about the property, at least until the next natural phenomenon appears.
More to the point is that I'll be able to enjoy a holiday with my sister and her family. This time, I'll be the only family member visiting from outside Idaho, but I'll be accompanied on my visit by Suzy -- a long-time family friend whose mental acuity, sharp humor, and physical agility totally belie her ninety years. Our last get-together with her for Thanksgiving was in Vaison-la-Romaine (Provence), France, in 2009.
Suzy and I will fly from Seattle to Idaho Falls on Tuesday, where my sister will meet us and drive us the 2½ or 3 hour hour drive to her home. It will be a short, four-day visit, but one to which I've been looking forward eagerly.
In Provence, fourteen years ago, we roasted a chicken and called it turkey. This year, I have dreams of real turkey and dressing, and all the necessary trimmings, in Challis!
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