puppy love

Some pics from Thanksgiving.

I was a total farm girl. My wardrobe consisted of short sleeved t-shirts over long (a look I have never worn convincingly) paired with jeans and a ratty old pair of Timberlands I left at my parents for slobbing around in. I spent my time learning how to ride a four wheeler (I am really good at shifting and goinng forward, not as good at steering and stopping), bbq-ing, romping on the puppy and generally getting dirty at every opportunity. It was sweet. My new name is Ozark Bob. (not)

A seemingly cute and furry puppy with teeth like needles. She was not biting me in this picture.

Here's Engel on her dog bed, where she's chewed off the edge. She's a little damp because Teufel thinks that SHE is a chew toy as well, though he is very gentle when he takes her whole head in his mouth. No, really, He's GENTLE. But slobbery.

That's me and Kathy, my brother's girlfriend. The puppy would start gnawing on her ears within seconds after this photo.

There's my brother on the patio with Flumpy. The little nipper is licking her, um, bits. Compared to the other dogs she is very small. But they are very big.....

Right after this picture was taken Engel jumped on Flumpy and he ran away. He is not very puppy centric and basically avoids her at every opportunity.

I drove back to Texas on Saturday, 12 hours straight, luckily not that much traffic. I would like to kindly request that the Oklahoma Turnpike Authority please either man the toll booths on the Creek Tollway around Tulsa or have it so that the fucking change machines WORK! I mean, seriously, I would pay the tolls if you made it possible for me to, but with toll booths that are exact change only, me not having change and you guys not having change machines that work...what the hell am I supposed to do? Yeah, I had to run the toll booth. I've never done that before. HOWEVER..... I did pay for the one I had to run at the next opportunity, where there was actually a person available. I am evil, but not a thief.

I got back to Heather and Julia's at 8:30 pm, and then got up really early this morning to (now, don't faint) attend CHURCH where we had the baptism of Griffin. Which is a whole 'nother story in itself. Which I will tell tomorrow. I can say that there was no lightning shooting at my head, no fire and brimstone raining down and identifying me as the heathen I am, and I did not say "fuck" once. So, woo to me and my manners. Mamma done taught me right.

that's a big 'un

I just helped mom lug the 22 lb turkey up the basement stairs. It's a big 'un.

Mom's been cooking, baking or planning for about three weeks now. She's in cook heaven(hell).

Kit is just waiting for the when the turkey crisps up so he can get to the skin. I am a gravy hound of the first order and actually think that all the rest is just corollary to the gravy. Forget the other stuff, just gimme gravy and a spoon. Dad happily eats it all. Whatever you put in front of him, he'll eat it. Mom daintily has a small portion of everything, which is the secret to her phenomenal figure after all these years, but I know she'll be "testing" the food as she cooks it as well.

Kit's girlfriend, Kathy, is manfully holding her own in this loud, opinionated and oddly close-knit family. She manages to toe the line between my leftist leanings, Dad's so- far- right- he's- left- passionate speeches and Mom's 'in one ear out t'other' middle ground. Kit just goes and pounds on the new puppy or rides around on one of the 4 wheelers. He always was the smart one. I'm better, though, about not getting into it with Dad anymore. Hey, we both abhor GWB and that is enough of a middle ground for us to sit back and enjoy each other's company on a father-daughter level. You shoulda seen us in the Clinton years, though...woof.

We'll eat around 3 or 3:30 and then one of us will put in a movie (something more boy oriented than girl, even though there are MORE GIRLS here right now) , to which Dad and Mom will be snoring within 20 minutes. Kathy and I will no doubt pull out our Macs and do our internet nerd thing, and Kit will read a magazine or pretend not to snore with the parentals. If Rich was here, (he's back in Norway) he'd be politely trying not to snore, but would fail miserably. Though he would have won MASSIVE brownie points (as he always does) by helping to clean up after the meal. The first time he did that, I swear Mom almost passed out. Men in this family have not been trained to help with the clean up. A man in the kitchen is as rare a sighting as a UFO. (For us, the alternative meaning of UFO is Unrepentant Farting Object.)

Tomorrow we NONE of us will be hitting those horrible 6 am sales on "Black Friday". Family tradition demands NO shopping on the one day that you are supposed to go. We are, you see, contrarians of the first order. Nobody tells US when to shop! Besides, Friday is Turkey and Gravy Sandwich Day, which for me is the whole point of Thanksgiving....I just wanna get to Friday when the REAL fun starts.

Happy Thanksgiving one and all......