This weekend, my crew will be packing up and heading for the Blue Ridge Mountains in North Carolina for Thanksgiving break. It’s one of our favorite spots on the planet – only Rosie loves it more because she gets to run all over the mountain without a leash for a few days and scare the cows who roam in the pastures and the woods near the cabin. There’s usually a black bear or two skulking about, but so far, Rosie hasn’t gotten into any scraps. Because the cows are allowed to roam freely in a large and sometimes densely-wooded area, there are a number of anxious “is-that-a-black-cow-or-OMG-is-that-a-black-bear” moments that spike your heart rate. The nearby ski place is making snow and the forecast calls for nice, cool weather. I’m really looking forward to it. Last year, I got taken out by an out-of-control skier and I broke a rib in the tumble. It turned out to be a fortuitous collision since it led to a CT scan that started my medical odyssey. I’d thank the lady who plowed into me if I could find her. But I think I’ll stay in the lodge this year – with a cold beer or a warm cider. As I’ve mentioned before, Thanksgiving is my kind of holiday. Nobody will be chasing me with chainsaws, I hope, and it’s the closest thing to an anti-stress holiday there is. Of course, I can say this because I don’t get involved in the menu planning and cooking but I do wash all the Thanksgiving dishes. The cabin kitchen was recently remodeled to include a garbage disposal, so it looks like Christmas came early for me! We’ve been going to this same spot since well before our girls were born and so the place is chock full of stories and laughter and good times with family and friends. Someday, I’ll write some of them down. There’ll be no High Five next week since I’ll be blessedly out of range for the whole week. Talk about lowering your dose. I’m going Cold Turkey.