I just want to toss up a warning about the Chinese movie August Never Ends, which is well-acted but so depressing I had to stop watching it about halfway through, as I saw where it was heading. The poster for it is completely wrong; those girls should not be smiling. Also, I admit I fast-forwarded to the end to find out how it all turned out, and that was worse than what I was able to watch. This film just stomps all over romance, mothers and daughters, best friends, and fidelity, and leaves you wondering why anyone ever bothers with any of it. Anyway, you have been warned.
This was our little Thanksgiving dinner last year, when it was just the three of us. Time keeps whittling down my favorite holiday; this year it will be just me and my guy, and we likely won't even have a turkey.* That will be a first in 35 years. I feel about Thanksgiving the way other people do about Christmas, and while it's a lot of work it's my favorite holiday. Of all the Thanksgivings I've had in the past sixty years, only three were truly terrible: one when I was a kid that I don't talk about (#1 most miserable); the time I roasted two turkeys together and hosted fifteen people whom I cooked for and served with zero help (the largest and #2 most miserable); and the one I spent in basic training (the #3 most miserable.) I have no pictures of any of those, thank heavens. In addition to doing all the cooking I'm the one who takes all the pictures, washes all the dishes and puts away all the leftovers. I suppose no one else cares because to them it...

Comments