Perch

Aw - y'all are sweet. Of course, it's nice to know that if I'm gonna fish for compliments, I'll actually get some and not, y'know...boots or license plates or tires. Or, y'know, whatever the equivalent would be. Wow. That metaphor sort of disintegrated, didn't it??

Moving right along.

My mom started a blog!! Woo hoo!! Don't let her fool y'all with that "in the making" hooey. She's totally a crazy cat lady - she's got four of the damn things. Hi mom!! I'm still bringing the wine and the cute boy (I hope) for Thanksgiving!!

There's been some holiday-related funk lately. I know part of it is because this is the first holiday season since my dad died. I won't be going to Louisiana for Thanksgiving. I'm pleading financial and vehicular reasons, which are both valid, but the bare-ass truth is I just can't stand to go to Louisiana and not see my dad. I mean, yes, my car needs a bunch of stuff done to it before I take a 500 mile trip and I can't really sink the money into my car right now, but I *could* pull it together and I *could* make it happen like I've done before, but honestly?? Drive nine hours and turn down that road and look for the mailbox and turn in the driveway and go under the carport and go in the door and then no dad? I just can't.

He always used to joke and bitch that "next year, I'm going to a Goddamn restaurant." This year, it's tempting to stay home in my pajama pants and order pizza in his honor. I know it's selfish and I'm sorry. But I just can't do it this year. Maybe that makes me a bad person or a wimp or a bad granddaughter, but I'm not entirely sure I care. The thought of sitting in that house and choking down baked turkey without my dad's sense of humor surrounding me fills me with a type of fear that I can't even describe.

The thought of disappointing my grandparents fills me with a mild sort of regret. I'll take the regret, thank you.

I swear mom, I didn't give you this link so you could see me all sad. I write funny stuff, really!! I'm just having a bad week!!

Anyway, speaking of mom, she's hosting Thanksgiving at her place this year. I really will bring wine. At least one bottle for me (heh) and something cranberry - related and since Kayleigh doesn't have faith in anybody's cornbread dressing except mine, I may make a pan of that as well. And, because I'm a recipe nerd, and mom's talking about going native this year, I think I'll research a "first Thanksgiving" or "authentic native American" recipe or...somesuch and make that. As long as it doesn't involve bugs, I'm good. That makes three dishes, one bottle and a cute boy. Does Igloo make a cooler that big?

Dude, it's 11PM, why am I still wearing a bra?