Stuffed

Thanksgiving dinner was a great success.

We had turkey, of course, but deep-fried, the way Southerners like it.

We had homemade stuffing, whole-berry cranberry sauce, corn custard casserole, dinner rolls, black olives, the best sweet potato casserole in the world, pineapple slivers soaked in rum crumble, homemade pumpkin pie, homemade butter pecan ice cream, all washed down with a wonderful Riesling which tasted for all the world like a Granny Smith apple.

Say what you want about our blogging, but WordGirl and I know how to entertain.

We had my old boss and his girlfriend over, and could tell the day was successful when he was snoring on the couch during the Lions game.

Afterward, we headed over to SisterGirl's house to visit the MoltenNiece. We had placed bets on which of us she would run to first. A sucker's bet to be sure for me, but I have the benefit of several years and lots less scruples than WordGirl, so when the MoltenNiece made a beeline for her favorite aunt, I used my mad Madden skillz to bump WG out of the way and make the perfect pick. SisterGirl was not amused.

We hung out at their place for a couple of hours until we took the subliminal hint that it was time to go home:

"Why are you pacing?"

"No reason. Just stretching my legs."

"Yeah, but why are you pacing?"

"Stretching my legs."

"Yeah, but why are you pacing?"

"Don't you have some blogging to do or something?"

And with that, we Murthaed on out of there.

Last night, WG and I broke into one of her Christmas gifts, a copper fire pit. Soon we had a nice little fire going on the patio, which was swiftly supplemented with camping chairs, booze, and the wonders of iPod. Then inside for a bit of delayed "Lost" viewing on TiVo---bit of a letdown since the episode pretty much sucked after the past few weeks of edge-of-your-seat viewing. Next week promises better, but doesn't it always?