Thanksgiving

We made a quick 24-hour round trip to Riverton to be with dear friends for Thanksgiving. We awakened at 3 a.m. wide alert in order to be there by 10 a.m. for Ruby's Bellini's, a concoction of apricot nectar, Peppermint Snapps and champagne. Dessie had a half strength. Dix launched a conversation about Spook's insulin threapy - whether you could just put his insulin in his drinking water. Bess, a pharmacist, proposed to do a clinical trial. Don offered a shot from his 20 gauge to cure all problems before retiring to his smoking quarters. Steve arrived sporting his new camera - a 20x optical zoom Canon. He gave out Whitman's chocolate samplers to the ladies, complete with the price tags ("because he actually paid less" he says). We watched the lovebirds Greg and Kinsey toss a football. She throws a beautiful spiral. I did my turkey carving ritual but the meat was so tender, it required no cutting. I had carefully washed my hands and since the only hand towels were decorative, I dried my hands on Delores' cooking shirt. The meal was perfect, right down to the green bean casserole and yams. We noticed we don't drink as much any more and we sit longer. I did my odd-job thing by shortening a set of window blinds. Mr. Peepers failed to cure the jack-knifing LazyBoy or the runaway GE ice maker - attributing both to bad engineering.
Dix and I tried a new Mexican Restaurant when we got back and it was great. Just enough spice to get my nose dripping. We looked at Christmas trees and keep returning to the Safeway lot where this guy has been selling them each Christmas for the last twenty years. He dresses in a Santa outfit and has a great natural Santa beard. Spook drank a whopping 52 ounces of water during the 28 hours we were gone. We will wait for tomorrow's reading before believing it totally. (The next morning's measurement was 7 ounces, averaging 29 units per day, still a little high.)