We celebrated Thanksgiving with 19 of our family, including a new grandnephew and a new perhaps significant other. Two turkeys, 4 kinds of stuffing, veggies, etc, with all the trimmings, plus 7 pies, banana bread, and brownies. Then Stephanie brought out the chocolate cake she’d made for my birthday, cookies, cupcakes, and Rice Krispie treat “drumsticks”.
Fortunately, our family is all vaccinated, with the exception of the younger children. We didn’t have any of the fights other families had. My neighbor has a niece and her husband who refused to be vaccinated, so there was much deliberation about how to handle the situation. Conveniently, the couple and their teenage children all came down with Covid, so were too sick to come to dinner. As they say, karma is a bitch.
I was the delighted recipient of a big-numbered rain gauge from sister Peg, a blinged-out Christmas flamingo and flamingo-decorated bowls from Step and Clara, a set of prime-rated ear buds from my sweetie, and 2 of the best toilet seats that his company sells from my older son. The last are amazingly comfortable. I didn’t even know toilet seats could be so comfortable. Still don’t think I’ll have a bookshelf in the bathroom.
Now Grant and I are sitting on the veranda of the Lakeside Inn, drinks on the table next to us, watching the sun settle over Lake Mount Dora. This morning, I started all of my winter vegetables in shallow pots so I can transplant them in mid-December. I’ve organized our gardening supplies in our outside shed, finding enough sphagnum to plaque the night-blooming orchid for which I’d bought another bag of sphagnum. Ah, well. (When we got home, I saw that the squirrels had dug around in some of of my pots. I don’t know which seeds will survive. Wait and see. And contemplate Brunswick Stew made with the little buggers.)
I also planted onion sets from Ace Hardware, using the compost I’d made in our little tumbler and sieved through the sieve I’d made. Feeling fairly smug. Best of all, I found the spray paint left from Clara’s painting at Cadillac Ranch this summer. My hori hori knife and trowel now sport hot pink handles. Perhaps I will spend less time looking for them when I garden.
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