Holidaze

Belly full, much like most everyone else I know right now. Thanksgiving is always such a mixed bag for me, holiday-wise. I enjoy the food, I enjoy the visiting, but really, about an hour in, I’m ready for people to leave and for my quite cocoon to come back. It seems that no one on either side of our families has any volume control and the only way to make yourself heard is to scream above all the din and, really, by the time folks leave, that’s pretty much what I’m grateful for.

But I really did enjoy everything tonight. The food, as always, was spectacular. I decided to forego the roasted turkey in favor of deep fried turkey, which was pretty awesome. We went to Sister Mary G’s for a deep frying party last night and so that was taken care of. All that remained (for which I was responsible) was to cook the ham, two pies, a pumpkin pie cake (mmmmmmmm), and deviled eggs. Between rolling, and filling and mushing and what-all else, we straightened the living room (I swear that debris breeds on my side tables!), cleaned the floors (best hubby ever who vacuums and mops!), cleaned the boy’s room (ish), and cleaned the guest bathroom (ish). In between all that, we got to watch the Macy’s parade (why do they even show that other one?) and, well, not much else. But the house is more or less clean now, excepting the dishes and some minor pickup business that will be taken care of in the morning. Harrison went to spend the night with my parents and they are going out to my grandmother’s house tomorrow to visit. After Robert gets off work, I think I’m going to see if he wants to drive out to Crazy Town (they do live in Rusk…fittingly…) and visit.

So now, the house is quiet. The husband is crashed in bed in a fit of tryptophans and beer. The girl is crashed in her crib, exhausted from cute overload for the family. I am working on a scrapbook of sorts from a trip we took last summer in the hopes of getting it done before the 30th of the month. With quiet like this, it just might happen.