It’s Thanksgiving at Auntie and Uncle’s house. Let’s all go around the table and say what we’re thankful for.  I’m on the periphery of a family group—the poor relation in more ways than one. “The wine,” I say when it’s my turn, and I mean it.  I’m thinking, when and where and how can I get some more of this here Balm of Gilead. I’m thinking, whatever it takes. Friday nights it’s all the same, week in week out.  Get depressed and fed up at home.  Might as well be a piece of f