O. Henry wrote a story called “The Gift of the Magi.” If you’re not familiar with it, it’s about a young couple who are penniless but want to buy each other a present for Christmas. He has a pocket watch of which he is proud and she has long, lovely hair. He hocks his watch to buy her hair combs and she cuts her hair to buy him a chain for his watch. I’m a sucker for love stories. This one sticks with me because it is part of a journey these two are making together; hence, the title. Today is the Feast of the Magi, or Three Kings. It may be my favorite holiday, if only due to its focus on journeying.

Michael makes sure I have a hibiscus in the house. I fell in love with them in Brazil, where they would spill over from peoples’ yards into the sidewalks. I now live with snow and cold, but my life if full of flowers.

Zeke accompanies me on the walk I have been taking almost daily for the past 11 years. I have not yet grown tired of the scenery. I often notice something new; if only ephemeral footprints of prior forays.

I packaged up the last of the sausages today. Our final count was 75 pounds: 25 of Swedish potato, 20 pounds of brats and 30 of kielbasa. We feed them to family and friends, but still there are many to store. I managed to find space in our freezers.

But only by taking out a chicken to roast. Michael makes the best stuffing. This version had the traditional onions and celery, to which he added collards, mushrooms, black olives, jalapeños, and baby corn. He loves bread. He knows I love vegetables. His dressing reaches new heights of culinary delight through his efforts to meld our preferences together.

Time together is one of the greatest gifts of all.

Happy wandering.