How was everybody's Thanksgiving?
I worked like a dog on Thursday, preparing a traditional meal for just three of us. I was unconscious by 6 p.m.
Friday, I took Mom out to do a little shopping at our local department store, over in the next county.
She pooped out on me before we were even in the door. Nevertheless, we managed to find her a couple of nightgowns, a "jogging" suit for her to wear at "Antique Village," a pair of shoes to replace the 15-year-old ones I had to pry off her feet with a crowbar, and a winter jacket. I did most (read "all") of the shopping, after I had propped Mom against a wall or hung her up on a rack in each of the various departments.
In between times, there were many other meals to be prepared and served, baths to be given, medications to dole out, laundry to wash, Scrabble games to be played, family pictures to sort through, and questions to be answered and stories to be heard, over and over, again.
Saturday, I drove her back to the "Village," where I collected all of her summer clothes and arranged her winter clothes in her drawers and closet. Then I drove home.
Sunday I spent in a stupor, gazing into space and twirling my hair.
Before Thanksgiving preparations got underway earlier in the week, I got to have a nice visit with a friend who came over on Monday morning. We'll just call her Lizzie Dear for now, until I can get her permission to out her on God Bless Y'all.
We had planned to have coffee, but wound up walking on the beach with her dogs the whole time she was here. I hope she didn't think I was a rude hostess, getting her over here with promises of refreshments and not following through.
After bragging in an earlier post that I take my camera with me everywhere these days, I forgot to bring it on our walk. While it was a crystal-clear day and we saw some cool icicles to photograph, I'm really more disappointed that I didn't get to take a picture of Lizzie Dear, who is stunningly gorgeous.
She's an interesting, multi-talented gal, too!
I'll tell you more about her later on, if she'll let me.
Last night I had a super-satisfying gab on the phone with my good friend, Peanut, out in New Mexico. Peanut is one of my oldest and dearest friends, whom I follow around the country, visiting, any chance I get. She can't seem to stay put in any one place for too long, which is a good thing for me!
Peanut's originally from Baltimore, hon, and I met her when I went back to college in my 30's. Even though Peanut was only just out of her teens when we met, she never held my advanced age against me and treated me just like any other college coed. Sniff. Sniff. We've been fast friends ever since.
After college, while I continued to languish here, she moved here and there and did this and that, and ultimately became "Peanut, B.A., M.L.S., J.D."
She still needs to earn her M.D. and Ph.D., but it's just a matter of time, really, and a few more college loans.
(Peanut, the ornaments will be in the mail Tuesday.)
I need to introduce you, too, to Miss Madagascar, whom I've known the longest of my friends. Miss Madagascar might know things about me that even I don't know, 'cause she might have been a tad more lucid during some of those youthful indiscretions that we shared. Or maybe not.
I met Miss Madagascar in what used to be called Junior High School. I don't think either of us thought so at the time, but we really became friends when we were still just children! We've been friends for a long, long time, now.
Most recently, a week after the election, Miss Madagascar and I got together at her place and went to a local deli to grab a bite. I love to visit her house. She has cool treasures, like the parrot lamp and the pink glass ashtray. She has a green, baby grand piano in her living room, and a picture of a line of naked, dancing ladies in her bathroom. Everything has a story, and nothing comes from Crate and Barrel. I always tell her that visiting her home is like visiting a museum, but that's not quite true. It's more like a curiosity shop. Nothing is ordinary. Everything is intriguing.
So, are you ready for Christmas?
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