It turns out that the timer set via NFC chip on my phone does not go off when I'm on a phonecall. So I was later than planned to the family Thanksgiving thing. I brought:
* a box of Trader Joe's turkey gravy, in case my aunt was not in a gravy-making mood
* a jar of IKEA lingonberry sauce, in case no one else had thought about cranberry sauce (both Tay and Aunt-Fayoumis did)
* Sparkling cider, Costco-size
* Cards Against Humanity (and Crabs Adjust Humidity), the Bigger, Blacker Box
The turkey took quite some time in the oven. Dinner was going to be around four-ish, but the turkey had other ideas. There was food!! ( Read more... )
It was at Guide Dog Aunt's house, so she and Woodworking Uncle were there. Aunt-Fayoumis had come up from SoCal. Tay and her Young Man came down from the city. Hipster Cousin was at home in Portland, and while Infamous Cousin had spent the night, he had several things to go to -- cooking at Mom's in the morning, helping his girlfriend with her cooking in the morning, going to another party in the afternoon, and then heading back to his girlfriend's.
It's been 14 years since Woodworking Uncle was at my erstwhile Overlady's new gig, so it's doubtful that many people there will remember him now.
My sister had been threatening to make cricket and earthworm flour cookies. She brought them. They were the little round gingersnaps, made with whole wheat pastry flour, coconut flour, and of course cricket flour and earthworm flour. They were mostly insufficiently gingery and sort of dry gingersnaps, despite Tay's Young Man drizzling more molasses on them. Tay said that they smelled sort of like dog food, and that it was the same scent from the cricket flour. I tried one. It was not terrible, but one was enough.
There was cooking and chatter and fun. The poodle is still in the Cone of Shame: he has five more days in it, for a total of 30. He seems much more energetic than the last time I was over. Kit, aka Sharkface, remains glossy and ever so enthusiastic. She was out in the yard; Guide Dog Aunt went to bring her in, but she was too wound up. So they played very energetic games in the back yard for a while before bringing her in. She got tucked in her kennel with a kongful of kibble and then a chewie, which she very enthusiastically demolished.
The table centerpiece was a fairly large squash, flanked by pomegranates and tangerines. Aunt-Fayoumis had polished the tangerines, as they hadn't been up to her exacting standards.
Everything was delicious. (Except, perhaps, the cookies.)
I mentioned the rule against me blowing bees in the courtyard
to Tay, and then we were suddenly reminded of one of our dad's stories. I sent two emails: first, Purple, advising him that there was apparently a family history, and then Dad, to ask about the exact story (as I didn't want to get it wrong). This morning, he'd remembered it:
I was eating lunch outside [in Berkeley] with some friends, I noticed that an uninvited yellowjacket was cutting out a piece of meat, eating my lunch! It was positioned such that thumping it away was unreasonable, but I had a straw! I pinched near the mouth end of the straw with my thumbnail because I didn't want a yellowjacket down my throat, and placed the suction end near the backside of the miscreant glutton, sucked hard, felt and heard the insect hit the pinched part, and blew it into the bushes! Table companions showed astonishment behavior.
I don't believe that I had this consciously in mind on that lovely late summer day when I bounced the yellowjacket off Purple's arm. (The version that Tay and I remembered was slightly more embroidered and had ended, Shawnlike, in him spitting out an astonished and angry yellowjacket. The real version is still great.)
After dinner, we played Cards Against Humanity. It was the first time for Woodworking Uncle and Tay's Young Man. There was some joking that Tay and her Young Man might be cheating, because of how often Tay chose her Young Man's submissions. And apparently when Hipster Cousin and his girlfriend played Balderdash, you could tell which was Hipster Cousin's because of all her giggling.
My eternal Cards Against Humanity house rule is: this game is for fun. If there is a card that is not fun and is actually terrible, it should not be played; if I think it's terrible too, I am open to throwing it out; if I don't think it's so terrible it should be thrown out, it should nonetheless be withdrawn from that game, marked on the front, and perhaps not put in play in future games; cards which continue to be flagged as terrible should be permanently removed from my deck even if I don't personally object, because enough of my friends won't have fun with them. I have thrown out several so far, and will probably continue to do so into the future. ( The best card )
Tay packed me a very full bag of "creepy cookies" to take to work. I will, of course, tell everyone what is in them. I may make some ginger-lemon frosting, to improve the taste.
I slept through most of Black Friday, though I did accidentally help blow up LikeALiar
's phone during a meeting, woops. She'd asked for recs! And then we all got in a very intense discussion of The Magicians.
I kind of loved it, because both Harry Potter and Narnia lied to me, and I was that kind of very bright student. Quentin is also a little shit, and both Quentin and the author don't give women a fair turn. I can't think about Quentin as a man, rather than as a person, or I get too stabbity. Seeing Quentin helped me move on from being Quentin.
Tomorrow there is going to be something going on at Guide Dog Aunt's. I hope I'll be awake. And then Sunday, I'm planning to meet up for coffee and fibercraft with quartzpebble