Let’s all bow our heads for the passing of the NaNoWriMo and get on with our November.
Of course all of you dear sweeties realized that Auntie was doomed from the start. Thanks for not pointing out the obvious and for letting me find out my own way. You are adorable and I love what you’ve done with your hair.
Without a chip on my shoulder, there was no way something as invisible and gratuitous as NaNoWriMo could make a dent in this, the Thanksgiving month.
Auntie does love her Thanksgiving, oh yes she does.
As has been mentioned already, this is the first time in 125 (count’em!) years that Hanukah and Thanksgiving will coincide. Cohabitate. Conflate, but not confabulate.
Copacetic cookery! Cooeee…
Okay, I’m getting silly. But I have a damn good reason for it.
It’s almost time to start the cooking prep. Not the prep cooking, that won’t happen til next week, but the Making Of The Lists is almost upon us. Lo and forsooth.
While not the best part, it’s one of my favorite parts of a celebration that is one of my very favorites. It’s fun to gather the recipes and tick off how much butter I’ll need, how many eggs, which herbs, veggies and other goodies will come together as best as I can magic them.
Food is love. Ergo, feeding people I love is the super bestest, and I never feed more forcefully than on Thanksgiving. Quod erat something fattening with nutmeg on top and lots of pie.
The once upon a time start to the story happened this morning when I stopped by our little local grocers to order the turkey for those of my loved ones who might care to partake of double-holiday avian flesh.
Last year’s turkey was named George. At least I think it was, I’m too lazy to go back into the archives to check.
Note for my lovely new readers: Yes, I name my turkeys. It’s a vegetarian thing.
This year, our turkey will be named Sheldon, and I can’t wait to meet him next Wednesday. Cooeee!
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