is one of my favorite weeks of the year. Tomorrow morning there will be a luncheon and bazaar at a local museum where I can pick up goodies for the holidays. This weekend, I will set the tables and decorate the house for Thanksgiving. Depending upon what I find at the Bazaar, I may or may not be baking. It is supposed to be cold enough to freeze the tail on a brass monkey so we can light a fire in the fireplace.
It is a week of anticipation. Of preparation. But also, always, a week of tranquility. A calm before the storm of holiday events and commitments. The pace and tone will not be so placid again until January.
I am planning to soak it in. To enjoy it. To revel in it, if I can. It will fly, as time seems to these days, but I will savor the moments so much as it is possible for me to.
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