I am climbing a mountain.

 

I arrived home this morning from an extended Thanksgiving holiday and rushed to my computer. What I was hoping to find in my inbox wasn’t there, but nestled amongst the bills and junk from the post was another rejection letter.

 

Letter would not be the proper term to describe what was scribbled atop my original query, sent back to me in my SASE. It was a two-word fragment, the meaning so poignant that I sputtered my own two-worded expletive out of sheer disappointment.

 

Just covered, it read.

 

Just covered. Hmph.  

 

I had checked the back issues of this particular magazine before sending a query to see if this topic had been covered already. As far as I could tell, it hadn’t. Perhaps the article had been in the works for months already, written by a seasoned staff member. Maybe another freelance writer beat me to the punch. The fact that the editors did cover a story such as my proposed idea means the interest is there, however. Now I just have to shop it around a bit more. And wait.

 

I queried another idea to one of our small, local papers the other day. I can’t say much more now. You will find out in February, regardless if my article is published or not.

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I certainly hope everyone had a lovely holiday with friends and family. I was in charge of the turkey, which is always a pleasure. My mother-in-law suggested I baste the turkey with apple cider instead of chicken broth this year, something I had never done. The turkey came out tender and juicy, but the apple cider, which had reduced to a, well, a mess made the most awful gravy.

 

Psst, called my mother-in-law surreptitiously from the kitchen. Taste this.

 

Now you know that whenever a person says taste this, in a conspiratorially sort of way, chances are it’s not going to be good. All along, my husband had been offering to purchase bottled gravy from the market; however, Thanksgiving, at least in my family, has always been a meal in which our hearts and souls and labors of love have been poured into every delectable morsel of food.

 

Bottled gravy is sacrilegious.

 

What my mother-in-law offered me on her spoon could only be described as sludge. Do you have any broth left? I inquired. The broth itself was rendered from a chicken months earlier and stored in the freezer for just such an occasion.

 

No, it’s all gone!

 

My palms began to sweat as I imagined my husband lamenting the absence of gravy. You simply cannot have Thanksgiving without gravy! If there is anything in which we all agree, it’s that gravy is the savory equivalent to icing on the cake.

 

Thankfully, my mother-in-law did have a package of bouillon cubes that, in the end, made a most palatable turkey gravy.

 

I even let her add the giblets! *Giblets, in case you don’t know, are the heart, liver, and neck.*

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Despite the happy festivities, little Bridget came down with an awful fever, runny nose, and croup, and she slept through the entire Thanksgiving meal. Even as I type this, she is sleeping fitfully in the crook of my arm. She woke in the night feeling like fire and demanding a cup of water, which she guzzled down greedily. Thank you to the makers of Children’s Tylenol for marketing melt-away tabs. I have two children who wouldn’t take liquid medication, even if they were on the brink of expiration. Bridget had no qualms taking a bubble-gum flavored chewable tablet, however, which allowed her (and me) to sleep easier. Her one request today has been popsicles. How could any mother of a sick babe deny her child that one treat?

 

All I can say is, it’s good to be home.

 

Although, my house is considerably messier than how I thought we left it.

 

I blame the cat.

 

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I’ll be putting together my holiday cards before long and would love to send one to you. If you consider yourself a friend, please contact me with your mailing address at igarrett@twcny.rr.com . Make sure to write “Holiday Wishes” in the subject field.

 

I came home to 160 messages in my inbox. If you’ve sent me an email, I will reply ASAP. I haven’t even checked my Google Reader yet. :-O