THE DAY AFTER, MORE TO BE THANKFUL FOR, AND JUST MORE. . .

Yep. I can see my own cheecks under my eyes. I ate that much. Ate like an obsessed moron. No, make that I was an obsessed moron. There's too much of meeeee.

Thursday we had Thanksgiving at our home for my handsome husband's family. It was a beautiful day, outside and in. My children enjoyed the company of their cousins, playing outside so hard until when it was time to eat they came inside soaking wet with sweat, breathing hard from the bottom of their lungs, and not in the least interested in food. They washed their hands dutifully, went through the motions, head bowed hands folded Amen, yes I ate a bite of the green stuff, yes I cleared my plate, yes I drank some juice, yes I said thank you can I go BACK OUTSIDE NOW PAH-LEEEEEEEEZ???

We had a few more folks at Thanksgiving at my house. My new sister that my brother in law (husband's brother) gave me had Thanksgiving at her house last year. It was her first in the family and she jumped right in. She's that kinda gal. I am so thankful. Anyhooter, she and BIL have fabulous friends-for-neighbors. Live on a cul-de-sac and we know them all because they all were integral in their wedding last year, and come frequently to family events that are held at BIL's house. One couple was going to be alone on Thanksgiving. Kids are grown and so on. . . . Ohhhhh, nnnnnewwwww. They came to our house.

My handsome husband enjoyed his Thanksgiving day, in his own words, "more than any Thanksgiving since Daddy's been gone". That's seven years. I am so thankful.

Friday morning we got up, packed an overnight bag, and went to my Mom and Dad's. When we arrived I went to my Grandmother's house next door where my sister was preparing the dressing for my Grandmother. She has taken over this duty since my Grandmother, who is ninety nine years old, can't manage it any longer. I have to say she does a bang-up job, and it's not easy to get it just right for Grandmother, the sage, the black pepper, the salt, the chicken broth, because she never had a recipe to speak of, not to mention the fact that she's naturally very disturbed well maybe irked is a better term that she can't do it herself so she's somewhat - er - snippish at times. You know, it happens to everyone when our bodies fail us, alrightie? I'll be the same way when I'm ninety nine, I guarantee. Heck I'm that way now. But anyhoosie, seester is so very kind to Grandmother and smooths right over it, continuing with grace and style, patting Grandmother on the shoulder and sing songing calming reassuring words while all along moving in a continuous motion in the kitchen to work out the kinks in the dressing to the satisfaction of Grand Matriarch on her oak rocker throne with the cabbage rose cushion, her sweet hands folded in her lap and her feet crossed at the ankles, sitting like the Southern lady she's been all her ninety nine years. I am so thankful.

Saturday morning seester and I took our kids on an adventure. Kept them out all day. Took them to the Discovery Museum, took them to eat lunch, took them for ice cream. Inbetween stops travelling from one place to the next, they all spent time in the back of the van together, and seester and I got to talk. When has that happened? Minivans are good there I said it. Make you look like Mommys, but guess the hell whut. We are. No shame in being what you are, and couldn'ta done that in a porsche. I am so thankful.

Now we're back home, it's Monday, things are frightfully normal again. I am so thankful.