We are now well into November, and it's one of those disorienting, "where has this year gone" kind of feelings.
As far as Christmas goes, it would be nice to think I can get it all done without setting foot into an actual store, and I think I can do a lot of it online and in catalogs, but there will always be those few things you need from Dollar Tree, Walgreens, and heaven forfend, Wal-Mart. I will try and keep it simple.
But first, Thanksgiving. This year, dinner is at my mother's house, and dessert is at her boyfriend's. It should be a good crew, and once again, we are splitting up the work. I have no other plans, in re: that weekend, but based on last year's Vertigo Vomitfest, I intend to take things incredibly easy. And stay super-hydrated. And not bite off more than I can chew, in any sense of the word.
This will be the fifth Thanksgiving without Dad. It has become easier - especially when you consider that the first year, I completely de-comped, and the second year, I threw up twice during dinner at a cute little restaurant. Years three and four were lovely, and I expect that we'll see more of the same this year.
But there is no small part of me that wants to call Dad and discuss ham. And cognac. And everything that he has missed since he died.
Enough! I've had a lot of good Thanksgivings, and there are more to come.
But lest you think I'm going to turn to a lighter topic, I am not.
Last night, this guy walks into a bar...
And shoots a shit-ton of people.
Twelve died, including him. Many others are injured.
There is no known motive.
The guy was a veteran of the Marine Corps, 28 years old, and had a few run ins with the law in past. He owned the hand gun he used legally, and it's the only weapon he had. Clearly, he knew how to use it.
So, let's not politicize it - It's too soon. This isn't the time to talk gun reform, or mental health access in the US, or Veterans outreach. And since we can't really pin it to a brown foreigner, it's not an act of terror.
Oh - and Ruth Bader Ginsburg fell and fractured three ribs. So, you know. Send your thoughts and prayers Ruthward, if you please!
Sorry, I'm not quite back to sunshine and lollipops just yet.