It's Thanksgiving morning, there's a light cover of snow on the ground, I'm in Massachusetts (the home state of Thanksgiving), and yet it doesn't feel like Thanksgiving. Of course, it's only like 6:30 a.m.So here I am on my computer listening to Burl Ives and the Beach Boys Christmas songs like a total geek.
I used to be cool, but I guess that's all over now...
I've got 4 hours to get ready and by the looks of me at the moment, that's not nearly enough time. We're having dinner with the in-laws at a local restaurant, and then going back to their house for a few hours before going to my Mom's house for the Ceremonial Lighting of the Ceramic Christmas Tree. Hopefully, my Mom was able to get the replacement star bulb for the top, which broke off. The "tree" is pretty pathetic even when all the bulbs work.
Whoremaster wants me to bring an extra guitar to my MIL's house so we can play. I feel like a traveling minstrel. I also hate the fact that he plays like 20 times better than I do. My only saving grace is that I play like 20 times better than my MIL. I think Mr. CCD plays as well, but I'm not sure, and so does one of the HOG group people. We have more guitar players than guitars, so I guess we'll have to fight over them. *smile*
The Merry Widow and Mr. CCD are new to our somewhat dysfunctional family gatherings, so they're in for a bit of culture shock if they're expecting a warm, serious type of Thanksgiving atmosphere. They could feasibly get pelted with holiday cookies.
I make no guarantees.
