I wonder why it is that the older we get, the faster time seems to move. I know that it's linear, and fixed, and a minute is a minute is a minute. Still. How the holy hell is it late November already? I'm still thinking in my head I need to buy summer clothes.
But late November means approaching holidays, which means...Thanksgiving. You can think what you want about it, or how strange a holiday it is. To me, it's all about the food and watching bad movies. The dats is fast approaching, and I have yet to give any thought to what to make. I'm not bothered, I thrive under pressure. I need a bunch of random items, like a bucket for brining the turkey, and a decent turkey baster that doesn't spray molten butter all over my pants when used. Somehow I keep forgetting to get that. I'm having a small group over this time, but I still don't know where they'll all sit. The toilets do have padded seats, so that's an option.
I've got a decent list of recipes of things I like to make, so I'll start going through that and hash together some sort of menu this week. Can you tell I'm a little stoked?
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