It's hard for me to write about Thanksgiving. Mary Ann can do it. She seems well-adjusted in every way. Anyone who can write about Thanksgiving and not be: 1. sappy or 2. bitter deserves a medal of honor.
Thanksgiving has been a blog-blot for me before this year. Blog-blot means it's something I've ignored on my blog. My dad died a few days before Thanksgiving and that probably colors the holiday.
I write about tiny things–not political or world issues, and sometimes I feel funny about it. I'm thankful that Obama is elected–I admired the picture in the paper of his family serving Thanksgiving dinner to people in south side. And I'm sad about other violent things going on. I texted Aggles last night to ask her how she was after having spent two days with Mom, and she texted back: Stunned by events in mumbai.
On Thanksgiving morning before Aggles got there, I spoke with Mom. She said, "This is not a good Thanksgiving." On Thanksgiving evening she told me that at dinner someone had asked her how she liked her new living situation, and before she could think, she said, "Oh, it's terrible." These are the things that throw me for a loop.
