Today I learned one of the former receptionists passed away recently. She was there a couple years, but eventually her alcohol addiction became a liability on the job. Word has it by the time she died she had more or less stopped eating, and was fueled primarily by alcohol. She was 51.

Sunday I was thinking about things I'm thankful for this Thanksgiving. My health, because although I haven't lost much weight, my cardiopulmonary fitness is probably better than it's ever been in my adult life. My home, because although the insane drama of the past month was, well, insane, overall the year prior was a far cry better than anything since Lisa moved to Colorado. And something else, which escapes me at the moment. Anyway, I went hunting for Bible verse that resonated with these specific blessings and health wasn't difficult, but everything related to home was "how to be a good submissive Christian wife, how to be a good Christian dom-provider-husband" dreck. Then Frank Smith shared something in response to my Sunday post of verses on health, that captured my feelings about home more perfectly than anything my own Googling turned up:

Better a dry crust with peace and quiet, than a house full of feasting, with strife.
--Proverbs 17:1