Thanksgiving in a nutshell

Tuesday – Drove 9 hours, very grumpily, since we were obscenely late leaving the house.  An hour or two into the drive, my mother calls to ask if we can stop on the way in and pick up some holiday ribbon and thereby save she and Dad a two-hour round trip.  We do so.

Wednesday  – Dad makes the two-hour round trip to buy more ribbon for Mom.  I run my errands, etc.  Later on, I nearly overdose on country music, causing Dys to call me over late in the evening and ask me WTF my problem is because I’m “radiating hostility.”  Thankfully a late-day dose of Jonny Lang evens me out a little bit.

Thursday – Thanksgiving lunch with my mom’s family and my dad’s mother.  Company pretty decent; food downright excellent.  My aunt’s sweet potatoes should qualify as dessert.  The actual desserts themselves would kill a small town of Midwesterners.

Friday – Cold and unusually blustery for southern Virginia in November.   I help my parents decorate the outside of the house, climbing the ladder so my dad doesn’t have to.  My son does a fantastic job playing with his 3-year-old cousin for an hour – unfortunately the young’un stays another hour or so past Boy’s welcome.
Knock out a little Rock Band with Dys.  We go to my grandparents’ 60th anniversary party, where we have the back room of a restaurant to ourselves.  My brother significantly pisses me off by slighting my favorite uncle (on the other side of the family).  I have fun playing with my nephew, and we (particularly Dys) take some pretty great photos.

Saturday – Sloth time.  I blame Crisitunity for Dys asking my mother to fish out the big tub of old photos.  We spend a few hours looking at old pictures of me and my family (close and extended) as I identify people, places, and things with the occasional help of my mother.  My dad makes a humongous pot of stew.  I assiduously avoid watching the Virginia-Virginia Tech football game (for good reason).  My brother invites me to sit in with him as he practices with his new bluegrass band.  I figure out that he mostly wants me as a designated driver and decide to pass.  I end up watching most of the Kentucky-Tennessee game.

Sunday – More sloth.  My parents make pancakes for breakfast while my mother curses out the Richmond paper for not running the anniversary photo of my grandparents.  Lunch with my brother and his family; my brother invites me over to shoot skeets while his wife insists that they put up their Christmas decorations.  Seeking not to become a cause of family discontent, I demurr to my brother.  I make a grocery run to the local Wal-Mart with my dad.  When we come back, everybody sort of collapses for a while.  My mom, dad, and Dys are all in various states of sleep in the living room so I corral Boy for another walk in the woods.

Monday – We say goodbye to my parents.  My dad leaves for work early as he always does; my mom leaves about 15 minutes before we’re ready to leave.  As she’s gone, I suggest to Dys that we sneak their camera and take photos of Boy (and Dog) in front of their Christmas tree.  She gleefully agrees.  We climb into the car and make the 9-hour drive back with only two stops, a record for the full family that was probably only possible because Dys slept most of the way.

Tuesday – Back to work.  Boy actually seemed happy to to back to school, if you believe that.

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2 Responses

  1. Oof. So, which side the the holiday land, for you guys? Good, or bad? Are ya gonna have to turn around and to it all over again for Christmas?

    Mostly good, I think. Not as good as the last couple of visits, or even the emergency bug-out from the ice storm this past winter, but mostly good.

    For Christmas, we point the car in the opposite direction. We’re going to Dys’s parents’ place. Gawd help us.

    Also, “Later on, I nearly overdose on country music, causing Dys to call me over late in the evening and ask me WTF my problem is because I’m “radiating hostility.” ” GUFFAW!

    I can occasionally get into classic country, but basically this new stuff does nothing for me. I didn’t need to follow hours of it on in the background while I was trying to read with a one-hour special on Darius Rucker (although that wasn’t so bad) and then a special “You’ve got to see this, this guy is such a great guitar player” thing which ended with me saying to myself “Better than me? Yes. But if he was a rock guitarist, he’d never leave the local club scene.”

  2. I’ve always found as excited as I always am to go away, I’m always just as excited to get home. If not moreso.

    Absolutely.

    Glad you guys had a safe trip!

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