Thanks

Your favorite butch blogger is thankful for many things.

Xena, Melissa, sneakers …

You know the list.

Heat, however, is not one of those things.

At the end of October, we discovered that our oil furnace was broken. We got a new furnace installed the day before Thanksgiving but are still waiting for the utility company to run a gas line to our house.

Our cats lined up for precious heat.

So, we’re living on space heaters. And flannel. I have never been more grateful for flannel.

We still had Thanksgiving at our house and hosted a party of 16. On that day, we were thankful for many things, including all of that body heat.

W’s birthday was on Saturday and we celebrated in true W fashion, wringing every possible ounce of joy out of the day. We started with an early breakfast and then walked around the Philadelphia zoo. We did a bit of shopping before catching Bohemian Rhapsody, which was better than I had anticipated. We capped off the day with dinner at an Italian restaurant, cake and presents.

I got W a bunch of things, including this sign that I had made.

W always thanks me for finding her. We met through Match.com, and I was the one who first reached out.

“I found you,” I always say. “I was driving along and there you were on the side of the road.” Or something silly like that.

What I never tell her is thank you for waiting for me.

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Hope you all had a very Happy Thanksgiving! What are you feeling thankful for these days?

 

Giving thanks

It’s Thanksgiving Eve, and we’re busy preparing for tomorrow.  When all is said and done, there will be 15 of us sitting down to turkey dinner with all the trimmings.

Six years ago, W and I had been dating for about a year when she suggested that we host Thanksgiving together.  We would use my apartment because it was roomier and invite both our families.

She looked at me with those big brown eyes and smiled that big smile.  What was a butch to do?

I thought it was a crazy idea.  Our families had never met.  In my family, “pass the crescent rolls” means someone will throw one in your direction.  There was so much that could go wrong above and beyond superficial crescent roll-related injuries.

But I was in love, and love makes people do crazy things.

So, we bought groceries and set up card tables, and W cooked.

I wore my best flannel.

It was a great Thanksgiving.

We’ve hosted Thanksgiving as a couple ever since, although now we do it in the house that we share.  Both of our families come and enjoy each other’s company.

We have certain traditions:  There’s the pumpkin-shaped ceramic dish that W likes to use to serve the crescent rolls.  The baking of the pumpkin bread that has been passed down from W’s grandmom to our youngest boy.  W makes stuffing early in the morning, fries up a small sample, and we all have a taste.  I’m probably biased, but W makes the best stuffing in the world.  My dad brings and pours the wine.  The good stuff.

Thanksgiving has always been W’s favorite holiday.  She’s always hosted it at her house.

I would tell you that now Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, too.  But I don’t want to sound all soft and mushy and sentimental.  That’s not very butch.

Inside, I’m just like this.

Maybe tomorrow for at least a few moments I’ll let myself be a little soft and mushy in the inside — like mashed potatoes.  I’ll think back to that first Thanksgiving, and I’ll give thanks.  Thanks for family and friends.  A roof over my head and clothes on my back.  A feast to share with those I love best.  And stuffing.  Thanks for stuffing.

But I’ll give a special thanks to W for giving me a push to open up and dream big and live life and let others in.

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Happy Thanksgiving!  What are you thankful for? 

Being thankful for being gay

If you missed the bulletin, W and I are having 15 people for Thanksgiving dinner.  Which always sounds weird.  Like we’re a couple right out of a Stephen King novel and we’re eating people for dinner.

Anyway, we’ve been busy painting and cleaning and sprucing the place up and preparing to cook and serve a feast for a party of 15.

Despite the craziness, I wanted to make sure to take a few minutes and remember what I’m thankful for.

I love me a hot shower

There’s the basic stuff like food, clothing and shelter.  Nary a day goes by that I don’t express thanks for hot showers and a warm bed.  Oh, and my soft, fuzzy PJ pants.  These things make me happy on a daily basis, and I realize that they would be considered luxuries by many people.

Of course, I’m thankful for family and friends.  W and I have so many people in our lives who are supportive of our relationship.  That’s not always a given with gay and lesbian couples.

And then there’s W.  Somehow, I found a woman who thinks my neurotic idiosyncrasies are adorable and not a sign of mental illness.  “You’re so cute,” she says, watching me pack and unpack and repack and unpack and repack and unpack and repack and unpack and repack a care package to a friend.

I was thinking this morning that I’m thankful that I’m gay.  How weird is that?

This butch can never have too many pairs

On good days, I love being a big ol’ butch lesbian.  I love wearing flannel shirts and Dr. Martens boots.  I love not wearing make-up and showering with Irish Spring.  I love women.  I love shopping in the young men’s section for myself.  I love neckties and suspenders and vests and wallets.  Baseball hats and jerseys.  Thermal shirts worn under a favorite T-shirt.

I ‘m thankful for being out and being me and living in a time and place where I can do all of that with very little backlash.

And, thankful that I really don’t give a damn anymore about what other people think.

How about you?  What are you thankful for?