This is the beginning of the time of year when I miss you the most. Well, except for all the other times. It's hard to quantify infinity.

I don't know why the holidays make me think so much of you. Maybe it's because the last time we had a friendly conversation was on Twelfth Night. Or maybe it's just because the holidays make us think of home, and long for the people we love. Both of which, for me, are you.

I started cooking Thanksgiving dinner yesterday. That's something else I miss. Holidays are pretty much the only time I really cook anymore, if that--between watching my diet and not having anyone else to cook for. I don't think I've made my homemade fettuccine Alfredo since the last time I did it for our Wednesday night dinner. I especially miss cooking for our church, which I very much enjoyed. Of course, I was always most of all thinking of you while I was doing it. Not only, but mostly.

I'm rambling. I guess what I really want to say is that I wish you were coming to Thanksgiving dinner.