November 24th

Well, here we are, another feast eaten, another kitchen cleaned up, another ton of leftovers in the fridge. Only an optimist would ask, what's for dinner? on the day after Thanksgiving. My family did a lot of the before-and-after, as I never feel too spiffy after a cancer treatment. No one wants dessert, no surprise there.

When I was a teenager I always got stuck with the dish washing afterwards. No electric dish washer, just people powered. It drastically effected my enjoyment of the meal, knowing that I would be elbow deep in hot suds in a manner of minutes. The dishes were "the good ones" and heaven help you if you broke one. There were tons of pots and pans, an entire sink-full of silverware (also the good stuff), and large platters and bowls and such. It all had to be hand-dried and put away right away because there wasn't anyplace to stack it once it was clean. Usually someone else helped with that part of it. For me, the worst part was the way my hands felt after being in water all that time, all prune-y and raw. Even now I wear rubber gloves whenever I wash things by hand, I just can't stand the way my hands feel otherwise. But I also missed out on some good conversation around the table after the meal, when everyone was sipping a coffee and letting dinner settle. I'd give a lot to have that part back again, all that family is gone now, one by one.

The cats of course are severely bent out of shape because they were banished to a bedroom starting in the afternoon. It is impossible to keep them off the dinner table at the best of times, and once it is set for dinner, eternal vigilance is necessary. Now they are out and looking for handouts, as soon as they smelled the turkey. Poor souls, it's tuna tonight.

Tomorrow starts the mad Christmas shopping frenzy. You couldn't pay me to go shopping on Black Friday. The advertising circulars were twice the size of the actual newspaper today, and I'm sure will be tomorrow too. But I don't see anything in them that I can't live without, thanks. And I hate crowds, and avarice is never pretty, and being rude seems to be the way to behave. I think I'm getting old.

Time for a little nap I think.

Note for the front door: "Ring bell and run. Dog needs exercise."