Feast In the last two weeks I have been to the emergency room twice. One for number 2 and the other for number 3. Number 2 is healing nicely, and number 3 is all better. Virus. 104 degree fevers in a 7 month old are just not the way to go. He is crying now. I wish he would go to sleep. I wish I would go to sleep. I wish my honey were here... Oh yes, and despite my upset over the guy who got hit by the truck, I did manage to pull off quite the Thanksgiving feast. There were many people. Our neighbors from across the hall with their boy, two friends from work, my father-in-law and sister-in-law, my three children, my oldest daughter's father, my husband. I think that's all. I made.. are you ready? Chestnut soup cornbread yams wilted spinach salad with hazelnuts and garlic lentil and nut roast with gravy cranberry sauce (my great grandma's recipe) pumpkin pie and my friend brought some stuffing. No, there was no turkey. I was cooking, and I'm a vegetarian. No one went home hungry, though, I can assure you. Every single item was made from scratch. Can you tell I'm proud? And I'm also very happy that everyone got along so well, and the conversation flowed, and the children didn't drive me too up the wall. I did have to change a "class five breach of the diaper" (thanks sexyoldman) during the meal, however. Well, the little guy isn't sleeping yet, and so I'd better go take care of him. I don't like to leave him to cry very long. |