bouncyIt's dark out, raining. No surprise, weatherwise. I think my house is a bright jewel, ward against the darkness.
I have probably 40 minutes until the first guests will probably arrive, and everything is done. Shall I start another book?
Yesterday, I left work early to go get my hair done; cut and colored. My hairdresser, whom I switched to 2 appointments ago, is wonderful. She cuts just the right amount, colors it perfectly and styles Barky into curly but restrained submission. She also gave the most amazing head massage during the shampooing that I very nearly asked if she would just continue and the hell with rest of it. After trying curly this morning, I just re-washed and dried my hair with a blow-dryer, pulling out the ringlets into big wavy curls. Moments later, I can feel that it's already tightening and frizzing in the humidity of the oven-warmed, turkey-basted house.
I am looking forward to this evening full of laughter, good company, good food, smiles exchanged. It may seem strange to be having this day of feasting and thanksgiving days after the "official" celebration, but the sentiments and the emotions are exactly the same. For me, the annual celebration of Thanksgiving is one of the best things about being American, and I'm not talking about the football or the tryptophan-induced coma. Even though we don't get a 4-day weekend here, and we avoid the trauma of Black Friday shopping (one of the things I give thanks for) the idea of a day set aside to spend with family and friends, numbering and giving thanks for all our blessings, is alright in my book.
