So it was one of those nights that I didn't feel like producing a grand feast and lighting candles, the botanical placemats matching the botanical dinner plates, the vegetables barely cooked and colorful, the London Broil cooked just right, a side of golden baby potatoes, wonderful conversation.

No, it had been a drizzly day, fog settling in early. There had been a devastating small plane crash, exploding in air, landing on the highway my youngest son drives to his last exams. A young family and their dog, a business associate and the plane shattered and scattered along the highway. Gone.

On some nights, we scavenge leftovers but we are all tired of the lasagna since I made too much of it, so I threw on some turkey burgers, cooked baby carrots, took out two kinds of pickles, and ketchup. Done in less than ten minutes, we make plates and head to the technology center of the house. Just as we're sitting down, my younger son announces we're watching Game of Thrones.

"That's fine, honey, I don't care, as long as I can eat and relax with my guys," I say, biting into my seasoned turkey burger on a wholegrain bun. "I'm just warning you, it's produced by HBO and they put in lots of gratuitous sex," he barely gets the words out when two people on the large screen in front of me are totally naked and obviously engaged in some of the gratuitous sex he tried to warn me about. Hey, I can eat dinner and watch people having sex at the same time. I'm still more concerned about the lack of vegetables I prepared. (I'm assuming everyone knows about Game of Thrones, medieval fantasy based on books, nominated for all kinds of awards,etc.) In my head, I'm thinking three vegetables: the carrots obviously, pickles, and ketchup. Not up to my usual standards but no one is complaining.

Then it hits me, we're having a TV dinner, something that as a child happened once in several blue moons and we always loved it. So it didn't come in a box, frozen, and we don't have a babysitter; it's still that feeling. Maybe it's what's happening in the plot of the story on TV, but I doubt it. My husband fell asleep despite all the nudity and bloody jousting, then left. My son would periodically stop the story, and give us a brief background, which was helpful if you were trying to follow the various story lines. I was for a few hours in a state of contentment; all was right with the world. Perhaps that is what the incoming Christmas cards mean by "peace on earth". If so, I wish that for all of you.

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