Back from Sacramento where, as every good Thanksgiving should provide, we ate slept and watched TV. And cooed at the baby who, in his still ineffable seven-week stage, acts like any good Thanksgiving participant -- sleeping, eating, pooping. There was more drool than is usually accepted for grown-up T-dayers. But, we allowed it.
Here's the food:
And here's the general reaction:
Unwarranted, in my opinion. I thought the meal was delicious. Cornish Game Hens, Roasted Root Veggies, Stuffing, Salad.
Have I mentioned how much I love thanksgiving? I do! There are no requirements other than an appetite. No songs, no prayers, no mention of swaddling clothes or talking animals. Just food.
1 comment:
oh man, i didn't realize what i'd been missing out on, not keeping up with your blog! i love reading it. i love catching you in these little moments: freaked out after a seminar, or fretting over spending money, or cranky and missing paris. and i can vouch for you when you say that you crack people up. you crack ME up! even your little asides (so important) make me lol, as the kids say. oh C&D, i wish i saw you guys *all the time*.
my goal is to keep up with la critika (hi, critika!) in blog comments for you.
also: can i come visit in february?
love, erin
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