Thanksgiving
The Mountain has been back since Tuesday night; last night, we enjoyed an old-style cinematic romp, The Legend of Zorro. (Presently, he is making his daily phone call to his girlflesh.) Yes, the Lions got killed this afternoon, but even so, who doesn't enjoy Thanksgiving football? I ate way too much Thanksgiving dinner, which means I ate just enough. This is the first white Thanksgiving I distinctly remember. Fan of Winter though I am, I don't usually like snow this early in the year (the first snowfall should be on December 1); still, given the disgustingly warm and sunny "Fall" we had (it was a fiasco hardly worthy of the name), this seems a fitting recompense. And tomorrow? More turkey, more yams, more cranberry sauce, more mashed potatoes, more gravy, more stuffing, more green bean casarole, more rolls, and MORE PIE! As I reminded the Mountain when he thought maybe he had too much dinner and couldn't stomach dessert, "There's always room for pie!" He cowboyed up and, oh, such a glorious pie we ate. This year, I am thankful for another splendid Thanksgiving.