I'm at my parent's house. When we were kids we always went to my grandmother's house in Brooklyn for Thanksgiving. (And why do I automatically think of it as just her house instead of both my grandparents'? Probably because my grandfather was so relaxed while my grandmother was loud and fiery.) Turkey has been eaten, I've had the drumstick as always. I've never liked white meat, it's too dry and bland. My mother put on Snow White for Mandy but she's not interested, so I'm sitting on the couch eating twisted wheat pretzels keeping mom company. We watched it a few months ago. Once again I'm amazed at what a beautiful labor of love it is, (though I'm sure Disney ran a sweatshop that would have put Kathy Lee Gifford's to shame,) while being bored to tears by the story itself. Oh well, my mother sat through years of Monty Python and Doctor Who just because she wanted to enjoy my company, and her company is priceless. Fifteen minutes of dancing dwarfs is a very small price to pay for it.
I've played there games of pinochle with my father and lost two of them. For some reason I can't fathom BBC America shows nothing but Start Trek TNG every time I'm here. I think their excuse is that Patrick Stewart is British. Most of the episodes they're showing today are so boring I want to cry. Give me Kirk and Spock any day, although anything's better than Voyager. Yes, I suffer from Arrogant Nerd Syndrome.
I'm going to visit my friends Troy and Chris at their parents' house. The Witloxes are good people and have always been friends to me. For them and all the other dear friends in my life I am very thankful.