The Turkey Trots!

I swear, I dunno what's going on. Since Brugger and I have (mostly) gotten ourselves moved into Pleasant Hill in Martinsville, this well-stuffed Thanksgiving turkey keeps appearing in random places. It apparently belonged to my mom, although I have no recollection of her ever putting it out for Thanksgiving (or Yog forbid any other time; it is so inconsistent with her typical decorating style). But in recent days, yon turkey has appeared on shelves, at computers, in bedrooms, on the john... all kinds of random places. Brugger denies all knowledge of this affair, but I somehow suspect she might be behind it all.

If all goes as expected, we'll have the Greensboro house on the market in the next couple of weeks. As it is, we're now pretty well ensconced in the house where I grew up in Martinsville. Mom called the place Pleasant Hill, and it's a nice enough name, sure, but Brugger and I are thinking something not quite so pleasant might be more apt for us. I'm thinking Ground Zero, as it's apt for both geocaching and blowing up shit.

T-Minus Turkey Day and Counting

For the first time in over thirty years, I'm not celebrating Thanksgiving Day in the company of my full family, such as it is. Sadly, in all likelihood, my mom has spent her last holiday at home, and my brother is unable to leave his place today. So Kimberly and I are dug in at Casa di Brugger, with enough food and drink in the works to feed the Biblical multitude. (Fortunately, we have a houseful of cats to help us take care of the mass quantities.) I'd have to say I feel a certain melancholy, as this arrangement will likely be permanent; on the other hand, having some much-needed down time with just Ms. B. is just the ticket for today. Since before our trip to Europe, when the world went careening off the rails, life has been a whirlwind of ups and downs, with far too many downs in the mix.

For me, Thanksgiving has always been about sharing time with loved ones. From my youngest days, my mom, dad, brother, and I always had a big Thanksgiving dinner, oftentimes in the company of grandparents, close friends, or both; in later years, with my wife and daughter as well. Over the decades, life changes and mortality have whittled family and those old friends down to a distressingly small number.

That said, it's safe to say I've never been a happier soul than with Kimberly, and at this moment, sharing the world with her is all the joy I can manage.

Typically, Black Friday is a day to avoid as much of humanity as possible by way of geocaching, and continuing that tradition looks to be in tomorrow's cards — as is sharing time with some of our bestest friends later in the day. So, yeah, things in my little corner of the world may be way, way different this year, but I reckon I'll be taking things as they come. It's not as if we have much choice in such matters, really.

So, to you and yours, a damned fine Thanksgiving. Eat and drink to your heart's content. Then try to figure out how you're gonna work it all off. I expect tomorrow's geocaching might at least burn off a wee smidgen of stuffing.