The day after

We had a very nice Thanksgiving. The food was wonderful although we all looked at the *gulp* barley salad and looked at my mom and left that dish pretty much sitting by her plate. She does not eat anything "that nurtures its young" so she's always coming up with something weird with raisins or some crap in it that no one else will eat. To my credit, I did eat two FULL bites of it, and it did not kill me. It would prolly make you poop good if you could eat enough of it, but with all the other choices available, that was a small bowl of pretty, mobile centerpiece to most of us. Mom was on top of her game, though. We had the obligatory turkey, dressing, mashed taters and gravy, acorn squash (we really are yankme's at heart), baked sweet taters, peas, corn, coleslaw, cranberry sauce, the barley salad, deviled eggs, rolls and sweet tea. I think I left more food on my plate than I ate because I had been noshing on raw veggies and dip and sausage balls (nice image, eh?) all morning. As soon as we were done with dinner, out came the pies-all six kinds: blueberry, buttermilk, mincemeat, pecan, pink and pumpkin. Everyone was stuffed.
My brother Jeff brought his step-granddaughter with him. She is a little doll, and reminds me so much of my sister in law Pam when she was that age-they could be sisters. She was very shy, and took much drawing out to get to come into the house with all the big people, but my handy new IPhone saved the day with a little game I had downloaded. After Jeffery had left, we were all sitting around in L-tryptophan induced semi-stupors and we all started talking about how good Jeff looks-he has lost that 'dark' look that has hung onto him through all of his other attempts at sobriety. I am very cautiously beginning to think that this time it may have actually stuck. Then the talk turned to Aurora, and Mom very gingerly said "Don't her features look a little..." She trailed off, and Daddy piped up "Touched with the tar brush?" And me, little Miss I Don't Have A Racist Bone In My Body, blurted out "A wee bit on the high yeller side?" I just ain't right, folks-I have been in The South wayyy too long. But I'm sure you've all fingered that out already.

After the dishes were all cleaned up, El Juevo and I headed out for the coliseum for the annual Thanksgiving Seawolves game. We were far outclassed by the Stingrays-they were bigger, faster and much more cohesive as a team than we were, but in the end, the home team advantage took over and we pulled one out of our collective ass and won in sudden death overtime, 5-4. We will take them any way we can get them.

Well, as I've been typing this, I forgot that I had another forking pie in the oven. We are having a "Misfits Thanksgiving" up at the Shingle Mill this afternoon, and of course I have been tasked with providing pies. I now have a burnt buttermilk pie to take, which would prolly be fine and dandy considering the theme, but since I'm the anal kinda chick that I am, I am fixing to post this and get my arse back in there and PAY ATTENTION this time and make another one and a pumpkin and get this show on the road. Believe it or not, I am not going to do any economic stimulating today (other than perhaps the brewery sector), I am chillin' at the hacienda and saving that for a day when everyone else is back to work and I can get to what I want without having to paw past everyone. Not to worry-I'll do my share! *wink*