“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 982 (Thursday) – thanksgiving

Thanksgiving dinner, 2022.

The long awaited Thanksgiving holiday of the turkey arrived, happened, and has concluded, except for a few leftovers. Family from North Carolina who are in town and a small group of local family were gathered at Mom's. 

The food was yummy. There was the classic menu of turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes, Mummu’s stuffing, squash, lanttulaatikko (Finnish turnip casserole), boiled onions, cranberry sauce (the can shaped kind), and rolls. So delicious. the past several years the sweet potato casserole has been cut from the menu, along with the risk of a house fire as the topping nearly always caught fire when forgotten during the two minutes under the broiler final step. It was delicious, but stressful.

The feast was followed about an hour later with three pies – mince meat, apple, and blueberry. Yes, most of us had a slice of each. It hurt a little bit, but that means we did it correctly, right? After not having any wine for several weeks, during dinner I had a glass of white zinfandel. Half way through the small glass, my sinuses became stuffy and my nose began to run. It seems that wine and I are not really friends after all. It seemed we had moved past the physical symptoms and torment, but perhaps that was just wishful thinking. At least with the white zin anyway.

I may need to proceed carefully with a test of other wines conducted under scientific conditions, which in this case will mean paying attention and making notes of any and all symptoms and conditions that may arise during the scientific wine consumption. I am willing to swear off all wine again, but it would be a shame to write off all wine forever without more facts.

I left Mom's with some turkey, potatoes, stuffing, and the massive, leather bound family photo album. I asked about one or two specific photos and Mom said I could look in the book but would also have to take it with me. then she congratulated herself for "getting rid of another thing" while I wondered where in the heck I would put the thing at my house. Between the books I can stop buying and the precious family artifacts I keep inheriting, it's getting a bit crowded in the bookshelves.

At least a hundred times today I thought today was Saturday, which triggered the thought “oh, cool, I can sleep late tomorrow.” Then I would remember that it is only Thursday, and I am scheduled to work on Friday. I better set an extra alarm for the morning with a note reminding me it’s a work day. Well, half of one. The afternoon is booked off so I can get ready and leave for plans with friends for dinner and a show.