Midway through a generous helping of turkey breast, gluten-free stuffing, salad and roasted potatoes, a peculiar realization struck:

This year was the first time I ever ate a full Thanksgiving dinner in my own home. I never realized how subtly unrelaxed I have been at every previous Thanksgiving celebration until I experienced the ease of having one in my living-slash-dining room. There is a certain satisfaction in celebrating an occasion like this in your own space, with your own things — and of course, with the people you love. I noticed, too, that it made me determined to eat all the more; after all, I had paid for all this stuff.

In the spirit of the season, an incomplete list of things for which I am thankful:

• My health, such as it is
• My wife
• My family
• My wife’s and family’s health
• The reelection of President Obama
• Our cat
• My brain
• The music of Bob Dylan, the Beatles, and about a hundred other people and bands; I shan’t bore you
• Agave

There is more, but those are the highlights. (The couch, for instance, is nice and comfortable.)