by Bella Rum
The first thing we do, let’s kill all the pollsters. Isn’t that what Shakespeare really meant to say?
I wonder how FBI Director James Comey felt last night when President-elect Donald Trump said he wasn’t sure if he would or would not fire Comey. Heads-up, Director Comey.
I watched on Tuesday night. The whole event was made less painful by texting with my D-I-L. When the handwriting was on the wall, we both gave up and went to bed. Of course, acknowledging exactly when it was over was different for some of us than others. H kept telling me it was over long before my D-I-L and I gave up, threw in the towel, rang the bell… ding, ding, ding, ding. Game over. Please vacate the arena.
So we move on….
… to Thanksgiving where there will be relatives of all political stripes. That should be interesting for a lot of families this year. As always, we are going to my brother’s house. My aim is to get drunk… on carbs. My long-planned strategy involves an attack on all the beige foods I’ve avoided for the past few months: mashed potatoes, gravy, dressing/stuffing, bread, etc. And when that one relative starts talking politics, I’ll head to the dessert table to find that incredible cranberry bread pudding with hard sauce that my cousin always makes. If all else fails, I’ll be sitting with Aunt Ruby. She loves me no matter who I vote for, and always talks enough to keep everyone else quiet. Of course, there was that one Thanksgiving she wanted to know how often I went to church.
In other areas of forward movement…
I’ve started my Christmas/birthday shopping. Remember, we have two December birthdays. My grandson was born on the 21st and the littlest one on the 28th. Amazingly, in only a couple of days, I put a huge dent in it. I made one trip to brick-and-mortar stores and did the rest online. Except for one birthday gift, I’m down to stocking stuffers. I always try to finish before Thanksgiving. I hate shopping with the crowds or trying to find something that isn’t in stock.
Today, the repairman is returning to fix the fireplace. H finally called them. They’ve had the part for over a week but forgot about us.
There was severely serious frost on the pasture yesterday morning.
Bella Rum is dreaming about sweet potato casserole and corn pudding.