I would like a simple large sign to lean against my house just outside my door. I want it to say something like “Thanksgiving” or “Give Thanks” or something similar. I don’t feel like I’m asking too much. Apparently I am.

Michaels? JoAnne Fabrics? JC Penney? Kohls? Von Maur? Macy’s? HOBBY LOBBY? Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. And, yes, I looked at Bed, Bath, and Beyond, too. I just didn’t want to admit it. There are still markdowns from Halloween, mind you. And Christmas decor is exhibiting some splendor this year if you can ignore the black and white buffalo check (black and white?) and red trucks. Okay. The red pickup trucks can stay, but they don’t get top billing.

For those of you who quietly think to yourselves that this year is honestly a battle between heaven and hell, the Halloween decorations next to Christmas decorations might just send you running out the door in search of a pumpkin latte to calm your nerves. I’ll be right behind you.

If life has taught me anything, though, it’s taught me when the going gets tough, the tough . . . well you know the rest. I’m oh so well aware my cheerleader outfit would not fit me now and I’ll leave that cheer for your to finish – if you can talk yourself into it after the year from – nope. Not gonna say it. I would have to make my own sign. Who needs a rustic artisan? (Well, okay, actually I’m someone who does.) Who needs shiplap? Who needs to spend money?

I went outdoors to scout around. Near our fire pit wood stack, I found something that might work. I grabbed it. Then I stepped back to assess a pallet we’d saved, thinking it could be used for a rustic wedding picture thingy. My husband and I (really just me) were the only ones with that idea, however, and there it still rested against the garage. It’s a bit larger than I’d imagined using for my thanks sign, but there were possibilities. I hauled them both into the kitchen. Then I went back out and grabbed a block of wood we use for a back door doorstop, and stopped in the storage room for some Sharpie Paint pens. Who cares that they’re not my chosen colors? I wouldn’t have to spend a dime!

Then some icy snowflakes started falling, which led to plenty of time raking and bagging our maple leaves (the tree always dilly dallys about letting the leaves go until the very last minute). But it was fortuitous. For as I was looking for something in the garage, I stumbled on the answer to my situation. Yes, I really did stumble. Sometimes the Lord has to do that with me. Or maybe it’s my long-suffering guardian angel with a sense of humor. It’s fine. I’m actually kind of used to it by now.

And that’s the story behind the pallet in my kitchen, a doorstop on my counter, and a dear little signpost by my front door, a beacon of direction to us all.