The Macy’s parade is in full swing, there’s an improvised razzleberry pie is in the oven and I’m running late.
Must be Thanksgiving!
And there’s much to be thankful for.
Obviously, the most ginormous of them all is the sponge being in jail where he can’t hurt anyone I love. They moved him this week to a prison in Beeville, TX, which is about a 6 hour drive, which means it’ll be very hard for my sister to visit him, which means my youngest niece won’t have to spend every weekend in prison listening to a raving lunatic.
Thank you SO much Morgan Freeman!
Other than that everything else seems little, even though that couldn’t be further from the truth.
I’m still thankful for my family (whether they’re speaking to me or not) and friends and health and job and roof of my head and all three of my blog readers and Dutch’s machete wound healing up and…
Oh, did I not mention that?
Last Sunday my father was out in the back yard hacking down banana plants with a machete and accidentally hit GoldenBoy’s dog, Dutch, with it.
It’s hard to see, but he’s got a six-inch gash full of staples in the middle of that bald patch. The poor thing didn’t make a sound, not even a yelp. Dad didn’t even know he’d hit him until he turned around and saw a gaping hole in his side!
Poor Dutchie. He was a little sad, but he’ll bounce back. Bitches love scars, you know.
I’m thankful for green sauce, Nutella, not having too be cut out of my house, almost being done knitting a giant Chewbacca and…
Did I not mention that either?
With all the stress last year I lost the will to knit, but after buying tickets to see the new Star Wars movie I was inspired again and started work on a giant Chewbacca!
When I say “giant” I mean he’s going to be huge compared to anything else I’ve ever knit…
Yes, that’s me and yes it’s taller than I am (5’2″). I need to reshape his head and finish one of his arms, but the knitting is almost over! After that I felt him in the washing machine (he’ll shrink by 1/3), stuff him and then try not to screw him up when I needle felt his face.
Don’t worry. Once he’s shrunk, stuffed and I sew his crotch up his legs will look more proportionate!
If he turns out how I picture him in my head and he’s not too big I’m going to take him to the movies with us.
Consider yourself warned, MadamBob!
I should make him a medal! What do you think?
The pie’s done!
And it exploded.
All over the bottom of the oven!
Clearly I improvised wrong.
Then again, I had one explode on me before and it ended up oozing out of the cake cover and into the passenger seat of my old Equinox.
And that was without improvisation.
Maybe that’s just what razzleberry pies do! They explode! Someone should really disclose that in the recipe.
Oh well, as long as it tastes good, right?
It’s going to be interesting getting it across town.
Speaking of, I’d better get moving before the family starts rioting.
Happy Thanksgiving everyone!