Fresh Paint
Wednesday, November 24, 2004
Not Giving Thanks Quite Yet
... but soon.

Ok, I give thanks that I arrived at my undisclosed location in one piece, despite the weather, and what appeared to be a monsoon blowing across Route 57 as my little Saturn and I tooled along, knuckles white, lips bloody from being bitten, and eyes bugged out as I was boxed in by a convoy of trucks and SUVs thinking that if they just drove faster, they'd get out of the storm quicker.

Now the smoke detector has gone off twice as pies are being baked and cranberries are boiling over. It wouldn't be Thanksgiving without at least one scare.

I am perched with computer on the edge of a chair, since the phone line only stretches so far, so this will be brief. I suppose news is occuring out there, and perhaps Bush will parachute into Fallujah, where bin Laden is no doubt hiding, and wrastle him to the ground all by himself, then hogtie him and haul him home to Crawford, assuring a new constitutional amendment allowing more terms if your name is Bush.

Yes, still bitter.

But the holiday has started well, with family and 3 dogs, many, many chickens, ducks and geese, etc. The bunnies have been groomed. Perhaps I will show you some pictures later, but it's dark now, and I believe the venison is ready.

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