Yup, I know it’s immensely cliched, but today I have to say it: I am thankful for my family. They live scattered across the country, from Chicago to Colorado, Syracuse to Seattle, and Boston to Austin. The Clark and Ristow families literally have the United States covered… except Hawaii and Alaska, which someone really should work on so that I can come visit!


Growing up, we used to drive to my Grandma Clark’s house in Syracuse on Thanksgiving morning. It was only an hour, but at the time it seemed like a very long journey. Now that I live in Montana, where we drive one hour to get to a grocery store, the Rochester – Syracuse jaunt seems like a plausible daily commute. Back then, upon arriving at my grandma’s house and fresh from a nap in the car, we’d spend the first half hour hugging all the relatives. And I mean all of them. Every last person on the premises would get up for a hug and a kiss whenever someone new arrived. The same thing happened in reverse whenever anybody was going out the door. No quiet arrivals or departures here! You can’t just slip into Grandma Clark’s house without being noticed, even though some 30+ people of all ages would be there.
No matter what our differences are, no matter when the last time was that we’ve seen each other – heck, no matter that I am often called by my sister Lara’s name – I feel welcome, supported, and loved by my family. This base of love and support allowed me to go out into the world and become whatever I dreamed possible, for which I am eternally grateful.

Oh, and if you’re wondering why I skipped an entry, yesterday I was feeling thankful for the ability to turn off the computer and walk away from the internet for 24 hours. Instead I baked pies all morning, and enjoyed the company of my in-laws in Billings.
