Sunday, January 01, 2012

01-01-2012

Down to a soupbowl of turkey, no stuffing, enough gravy to do one more meal. Random pieces of baking need to be attractively arranged on the Christmas goodies plate that should take care of the rest of the first-footers who are already hours too late but we'd be glad of their company if only to get the shortbreads theSamHill out of here on someone else's hips and thighs.

No snow here - good thing as The Jrs were only one this year and he was here for one sleep before heading back to The Big Smoke and The Job and The Friends Who Are (Thanks Be) Not His Family. We miss him and we miss Freddy-the-Dawg who is eggzackly the right height to clean off the sideboard and the kitchen counters. As F-t-D is well-mannered and as we are used to dogs and vigilance, all was well until some gumball put the bacon paper in the garbage can and left the kitchen. Sadly, as F-t-D was borrowed, he could not be left to enjoy the delights of stolen bacon dripping unlike dogs who have lived in this house and either developed digestive tracts of prodigious capabilities or croaked.

A closet is sorted which resulted in burning my late brother's bank statements. He's been gone 14 years.

Heading home tomorrow to have a pitch through my own closets.

Still breathing.

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