It's hard not to wax rhapsodic at this time of year. Between the leaves changing and falling (my own backyard trees aren't especially glorious, unfortunately, but the wind carries in brightly colored fallen leaves from elsewhere), the cooler temperatures (for the most part; 80-degree days in November are not what I signed up for) and thoughts of Thanksgiving dressing (my mom's recipe, more or less, since it's done by instinct), the season is ripe for rhapsodizing.

While I can't be with family for Thanksgiving or Christmas for logistical and other reasons this year, I'm still counting my blessings.

I have two great jobs: one that allows me to share the thoughts of fellow Arkansans as well as my own on the Voices page, and one that provides me with a form of therapy much-needed in such odd times. Though at times the work can be hard, especially emotionally when dear colleagues and house/cat-sitting clients pass from this realm (rest in peace, sweet Nora), it's rewarding in so many ways. Kind emails from readers and aggressive cuddles from tiny kittens do a lot to warm the heart.

Many of the readers I've met through emails, letters and in person, some of them critics, have become dear friends. When they pass on, it often feels like I've........

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