Non-traditional Holiday
Well, Ryan doesn't like the leaf blower.
Perhaps it reminds him of the noise the hair clippers make.
Besides, there were so many damn leaves it wasn't doing much of a job in the first place. Fortunately, the lower half of the 40 is all natural trees-n-tundra, so I don't have to waste fifty-two Hefty bags a year trying to gather ye dead rosebuds while I may. I can just rake 'em down into the underbrush and let the dogs sort 'em out. Until my leaf blower craps out and I break the rake in half with overly vehement raking.
Thanksgiving, however, was a weird weather day -- it almost hit 80 during the day and then a cold front blew threw, literally -- it blew another 114,697 leaves onto my grass. Ten-foot-tall leaf-nadoes twirled around the cul-de-sac. Pumpkins were rolled.
So while contemplating wearing shorts to our friends' for dinner, it occurred to me that this would be a new event for us, which is odd. We've known these people for over 30 years, they've lived a half-hour from my Dad for over 20, and they graciously invite family (when we're in town) for virtually every holiday throughout the year and then some made-up ones for good measure. It's almost second nature.
But the epiphany was that I couldn't remember the last time we'd gone over there for Thanksgiving. Christmas, sure. Almost every year. But we'd gone out to my in-laws the last two years, and hosted a small family gathering at our 'new' house in 2004. 2001-3 we were in Colorado, 2000 I was in Turkey, and so on. It may very well have been 1996, when I flew back from Colorado Springs on Thanksgiving Day and just walked in the house unannounced.
That's a lot of missed mashed potatoes.
They had family of their own in town, and another friend made it a full house. I figured I'd be at the kiddy table with Ryan, but they went ahead and pushed some tables together so I could participate in conversation not involving yams in one's hair.
Ryan was a little shy at first, but then realized there was a young, pretty teenager with long hair across the room, so he started flirting by passing a green sticky pad back and forth with her, then pretending to check out her i-phone while leaning up against her. When he'd had enough to eat, he got down and walked all the way around to her seat so he could sit on her lap and play with her hair. And during dessert, it was all we could do to keep his head off her chest.
My boy.
Perhaps it reminds him of the noise the hair clippers make.
Besides, there were so many damn leaves it wasn't doing much of a job in the first place. Fortunately, the lower half of the 40 is all natural trees-n-tundra, so I don't have to waste fifty-two Hefty bags a year trying to gather ye dead rosebuds while I may. I can just rake 'em down into the underbrush and let the dogs sort 'em out. Until my leaf blower craps out and I break the rake in half with overly vehement raking.
Thanksgiving, however, was a weird weather day -- it almost hit 80 during the day and then a cold front blew threw, literally -- it blew another 114,697 leaves onto my grass. Ten-foot-tall leaf-nadoes twirled around the cul-de-sac. Pumpkins were rolled.
So while contemplating wearing shorts to our friends' for dinner, it occurred to me that this would be a new event for us, which is odd. We've known these people for over 30 years, they've lived a half-hour from my Dad for over 20, and they graciously invite family (when we're in town) for virtually every holiday throughout the year and then some made-up ones for good measure. It's almost second nature.
But the epiphany was that I couldn't remember the last time we'd gone over there for Thanksgiving. Christmas, sure. Almost every year. But we'd gone out to my in-laws the last two years, and hosted a small family gathering at our 'new' house in 2004. 2001-3 we were in Colorado, 2000 I was in Turkey, and so on. It may very well have been 1996, when I flew back from Colorado Springs on Thanksgiving Day and just walked in the house unannounced.
That's a lot of missed mashed potatoes.
They had family of their own in town, and another friend made it a full house. I figured I'd be at the kiddy table with Ryan, but they went ahead and pushed some tables together so I could participate in conversation not involving yams in one's hair.
Ryan was a little shy at first, but then realized there was a young, pretty teenager with long hair across the room, so he started flirting by passing a green sticky pad back and forth with her, then pretending to check out her i-phone while leaning up against her. When he'd had enough to eat, he got down and walked all the way around to her seat so he could sit on her lap and play with her hair. And during dessert, it was all we could do to keep his head off her chest.
My boy.
posted by Dan at 9:07 PM
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