I wake this morn to tell you of the day of giving. I traversed to the family enclave to consume with kin the most thankful giving of bird this side of the Appalachias. But woe, my aunt and uncle came and brought with them a terrible plague. The common cold, they warned, had stricken them. That night, a great tribute of shoulders was forged from the iron and all was well. However, as I wake this morn I cannot help but to fathom if eating with my ailing kin will prove to be my downfall. My nose is runny and my head is clouded with sinister feelings of weakness. I am still recovering from a pulled lower back muscle and almost contemplated skipping over this most holy leg day but nay,

My body is sore and stricken, but my heart remains steadfast.