Labor Day

    This year as we went around the Thanksgiving table sharing what we were most thankful for, I was thankful for Labor Day.  That was unusual because Labor Day is one of those holidays I've never paid attention to. The only reason I like Labor Day is that I get paid time-and-a half to work, while not missing out on anything special at home. Labor Day celebrates the spirit of  American laborers with a day of laziness and drinking beer.  To me, it is the American equivalent of the English bank holiday, meaning: nothing special is going on, we just want a day off.  Also, I don't like Labor Day's association with labor unions, which I believe were once a necessary evil back when workers were routinely exploited, and an unnecessary evil now.
     Doing actual labor on Labor Day is nothing unusual in our family (see Raising the Roof), but what made this year special was that all of our children gathered at our daughter's place in Butte to help reshingle her roof.  Watching our children working and laughing together and sharing the family stories was the reward equivalent of receiving the Nobel prize for parenting. In spite of us, our children had become the friends we always hoped they would be.
    Then, to cap off an already rewarding day, Tracy announced that he had proposed to his girlfriend, and would be adding to our family another daughter and a two year old granddaughter. This was an amazing development since Tracy's girlfriends tended to disappear like objectivity on CNN as soon as they used the "F" word--future. Fortunately, when a heart is too full, it only throws up praise. That was why this year Labor Day turned out not be a turkey and, instead, became the center of my Thanksgiving feast.