A Turkey Sat On The Backyard Fence...

and he sang this sad, sad tune--
Thanksgiving Day is coming
gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble,
and I know I'll be eaten soon,
gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble,
I would like to run away,
gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble,
I don't like Thanksgiving Day!

Okay, now that the spirits of Mom and Grandma Stephan have put their stamps on the day we can move on, although I will be calling my children later to sing that little ditty to or with them.  I'll probably call AJ and TW to wish them a Happy Thanksgiving too, I might even sing to them if I'm in good voice today.  (be afwaid, be vewy afwaid... and glad I don't call you)  Since we don't have to be at the Zs until 4:30 I'll be taking my time assembling the cornbread/sausage dressing and the pumpkin bread pudding and making the rum sauce, so there'll be time to slog through the 5# (no, really) of newspaper ads that whumped onto the porch this morning and to fling around the laundry while I sew a little more.  Durwood will be watching the Packer game and probably hollering at the TV.  He doesn't holler as much as Mom used to but he can be pretty vocal about their shortcomings.

Yesterday wasn't as productive a day as I'd hoped it'd be.  I got the cornbread for the dressing baked and cut into cubes so it could dry out overnight, and I cubed up the boule of French bread for the bread pudding so it could dry too.  I took a shower (the world thanked me), took Mom's earrings to the jeweler (I lost one of the screw backs on Tuesday but not the earring, thank god) only to find that it's going to cost me $150 to get them new, more secure posts and backs (yikes!) (oh well, they have to be fixed so I can wear them all the time like I like to), and picked up a few items from the grocery.  Then I fell into a hole trying a new way of knitting--arm knitting.  Yep, that's right, knitting using your arms instead of needles.  When I was telling Mardi at yoga on Tuesday about my giant cardi, three other women in the room spoke as if they knew knitting and knew it well, and the youngest of them/us said she'd arm-knitted a cowl.  I was intrigued so Tuesday night before bed I searched YouTube, found a slew of how-to videos and watched one.  Never one to learn about something new (and relatively oddball) and leave it alone, especially when I've got all the supplies on hand to give it a whirl, I dug up some superthick yarn, put the laptop on the kitchen table, and began.  The first attempt was a disaster, but the second one wasn't bad, and the third one made a cowl.  I had about 6" of yarn left after I wove in the tails a lot since the yarn's pure acrylic and that doesn't hang onto itself like wool does.  But isn't this fun looking?

We met our friends, B&TD, at the Hilltop Cafe for supper. It's not quite as cool as it sounds, it's in a BP gas station but they have good, cheap burgers and we got to sit and visit for a couple hours.  A burger, a cheeseburger deluxe, an order of fries, and a bottle of water set me back all of $6.12; I probably spent more than that in gas getting us there but it was good to see them and talk about traveling.  No tater tots this time though, I tried to get half fries and half tots but they said no, not on cheap burger night and Durwood doesn't like tots.  How can anyone not like tots?

Look what happened overnight.  Snow, the real stuff.  There're a zillion birdie tracks in the snow on the patio, of course they don't really show well, but trust me they're there, and it took me a while to realize that the dark brown lumps on the neighbor's yard are squirrels digging for maple seeds.  There are a half-dozen or so of them doing the same in our backyard too.  Maybe I'll go out later (when I'm dressed better) and put out some corn for them, although they manage pretty well on the birdseed that's on the ground under the feeder.  As annoying as they are getting into the birdfeeders I do like them, they're funny-looking and brash; one stood on the back step with its paws on the patio door peering it as if checking us out yesterday afternoon.

November 28--John LaFarge, Wild Roses and Irises.  The heat of midday bore down on Leslie's head as she stepped off the back porch.  It was quiet in the lull after lunch but before the afternoon chores and games revved up.  At this time of the year most people took advantage of the long daylight hours to put off lawn mowing and other strenuous tasks until later in the day.  Leslie liked to take her library book out into the shady arbor near the pond after lunch to sit and read in the sweet, rose-scented air while being lulled by the steady buzz of the honey bees.

The 2014 versions of the Metropolitan Museum of Art Gallery calendar and the Mensa 10-Minute Crossword calendar that I ordered the other day came so we're all ready for the new year when it comes--in just over a month.  Can you believe that?!?  Although that also means that our grandbaby will be here in about the same amount of time.  Eeee.  *happy dance*  I remember those days of counting down, I'm confident that DIL1 is more than ready to see her progeny and be able to walk away from it a few times a day.  Anyway, have a happy Thanksgiving and eat lots of pie.  Hey, it's the feasting holiday, go nuts.  (see? I told you these posts would get longer)
--Barbara