Well, the first third of the holiday season is over. On Thanksgiving, I visited the kinfolk, where I was an accessory (after the fact) to the death of at least one turkey. I didn't murder anyone else...although a time or two, it was a close call. People don't know how close they came to having their insolent brats sacrificed to the T.V. gods so I could watch the National Dog Show in relative peace. Maybe I should have performed a sacrifice anyway - last year's winner, Gracie, didn't even place this year.
There seemed to be a thousand children packed into the house; running around, jumping and yelling "MOM!!!!!!" and "CAN I _insert verb here_ WHEN YOU GET DONE?" In reality, I think there were only five - which, in my mind, is about five too many. I had more interesting conversations with the dogs, cats and goats. Now I've just got to prepare myself for the onslaught of "YOU CAN GET ME THIS" -itis. I try to avoid it until December 1 - the operative word being try, since stores set things out at the end of August this year.
Oh boy. I can hardly wait.