Thanksgiving

Today was that holiday-day to give thanks for things, and eat a bountiful meal.  After sleeping in, Kari and I made potatoes and some corn casserole-thing (personally, I’m not a fan of casserole-anything, but everyone seemed to lurv it) and drove up to my mother’s in South Deerfield.  We have to drive past the Yankee Candle flagship store (“The Scenter Of The Universe”) and had a good laugh at the few cars driving slowly through their parking lot, staring incredulously (holy crap, I spelled that right) at the door, not believing they’d dare to be closed on a holiday.

We got to my mom’s and helped her get the rest of the dinner made.  A few minutes later, my brother arrived from New Hampshire.  Then, my mom told us she found out that our grandmother died during the night.  That was crappy-sad, but wasn’t unexpected; she’s been doing poorly for a few years now, and recently took a turn for the worse.  She was 88.  While we ate, we reminisced about her and gave thanks that she had a full life.

After dinner, Kari and my mom cleaned up while my brother and I set up my mom’s Christmas tree and strung it up with lights.  Afterwards, we hung out in the kitchen and talked for a few hours.  It’s been a long time since I’ve seen my bother, so that was good.

Tonight, Kari and I played Scrabble (she trounced me) and I read from a Georgia Nicholson book to her.  Last month, I started reading the series, and we’ve turned it into a sort of ritual, where every night I read thirty, or so, pages to her.  And before you judge me for reading books with titles like And Then He Ate My Boy Entrancers, read them for yourself first.  They are wicked f’n funny.

What I’m listening to:  Minus The Bear – Thanks For The Killer Game Of Crisco Twister