This was the best Thanksgiving. The weather was fantastic. I mean, middle of July fantastic, except that the temps got down to zero Celsius at night but the skies were blue and the sun was shiny and the leaves in Algonquin Park were at their most fabulous.
But oh, I am a hurting unit. Three solid days of biking and hiking has jellified these old bones and now I am salivating at the thought of a hot bath and a handful of extra strength Tylenol.
Tomorrow marks the end of my 50th year and I have much to be thankful for as I say good-night to another Thanksgiving Day. A year ago I couldn't have imagined myself biking all over one of the most beautiful places on earth in my baggy-assed sweat-pants, looking for moose and bear, and passing 11-year-olds in a single bound.
I have so much to tell you about but it has to wait, it does. I just wanted to let you know I'm alive and well and looking for the heating pad.
Tomorrow I eat cake.