The Thanksgiving Fiasco.

I don't want to give this link to people and just have one boring blog post about beginning my journey to blog-dom (and also I don't want to get off this computer when there are three hideous dialectical journals for english staring me in the face), so i'm going to describe the latest events of life: THANKSGIVING. NOM. NOM. NOM. 

This was the first thanksgiving my mom and dad and I have ever spent apart, because of the brilliant new baby child that recently joined the coppersmith ranks, my mom flew out to help kate and henry (my sister and brother-in-law) over the holiday and coo and swoon over this child to her heart's delight. On the other hand, my dad and I drove up north to visit his cousins and aunt and console the little hole where mom usually is with seafood and guns. 

My dad and I dropped mom off on the Saturday before Thanksgiving, and watched her go with sorrowful eyes. Our momma had left us to our own devices! We survived, though. We figured out how to make pasta.

The Wednesday following, Dad and I and Bertie set off to first pick up his Aunt (and her long haired daschund), and then go to the small New England village the cousins live in. 

The drive was horrible. I had motion sickness and Bert got me all furry and I forgot my earbuds to listen to music or watch movies on my laptop. I was SO ready to get out of that freaking car. 

We got to the house, and set all the dogs free, and I met the two chihuahuas of the house, Stewie and Pinot (as in Pinot Grigio, the wine, for all non-alcoholics that are reading this),who turned out to be the best entertainment while I was there. 

That night, we sat and visited. Thursday, we went to a state park for a walk with the dogs and then came back to the house and visited. I later got to ride my cousin's husband's motorcycle. It was great, but I was shaking for about an hour afterwards. Then we ate thanksgiving dinner and watched the cousins play video games. I enjoyed myself, and was delighted to get plenty of videos from mom of the bambino doing perfectly normal baby things that somehow I could watch for ages due to their cuteness. Then Friday, my dad and my cousin's husband and I went shooting and I shot two pistols, my dad's shotgun (which left me with a beautiful blue and purple souvenir on my hip due to its vicious kick), and a rifle. (My dad was nearly tearing up the whole time-he has been waiting to see me handle a gun since I first proved myself a true rough-houser by knocking his jaw out while being tickled when I was twelve.) It was alright. I was eager to get back to the dogs. And the food. ;) Then we went to a museum devoted to the history of New England's whaling industry (they had some nice lamps on display) and came back to the house for a seafood fest. I had lobster for the first time, and thoroughly enjoyed it, and made my dad proud by eating an oyster (which act will not likely be repeated in the near future). We followed that with the Big Bang Theory and chocolate chip cookies, and then went to bed. I was pretty happy, until I woke up and spent half my night kneeling by the toilet promising myself to never combine seafood and chocolate ever again till the day I die, and hating myself for enjoying either delicacy in the first place. That morning, we packed up (I ate a modest, puritan breakfast of toast, not willing to repeat any events of the previous night in the car with two dogs) and left. After dropping our aunt off, we went to the airport to pick up mom. Dad sent me in alone, I got briefly lost in the elevator, found mom getting off her plane, and we FINALLY proceeded home. I was glad to be home, and now today is the last day we have together before returning to our various prisons of work and discipline.

I hope all your thanksgivings were unique and wonderful, and you enjoyed family and food with wild abandon, as I did. 

I also send my condolences to anyone who has to return to work or school. Just put Bing Crosby on shuffle, and carry on, folks. ;)