Once I finished cleaning out and reorganizing my book/sewing stuff closet last month, I finally accomplished all of my personal spring cleaning goals (the rug cleaning is my guy's job, but I will help him with that.) That took from the beginning of April (I did a bunch of planning and prepping before I began the real work) until the middle of May, or about six weeks. I promised pics, right? Click here to see my spring cleaning album.
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...
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