Down to the last remaining cranberry

I polished off the last of the Thanksgiving leftovers today.  Homemade cranberry sauce with plain yogurt and granola = mouth heaven.  It was like licking a unicorn dipped in a rainbow.  So delicious.

Then I threw myself headlong into the next holiday season and finished my Christmas shopping!  I really wanted to avoid participating in Cyber Monday, because I just think the name sounds dirty.  Actually, that should make me want to be a part of it, but my desire to reject huge consumer trends and mass acquisitiveness usually outweigh my (powerful) desire to be raunchy.  My internet purchases were just a matter of convenience and coincidence today, though.  I swear.  I had the day off, and realized that the holiday is fast approaching and, as I currently have no means of getting to a decent store, Cyber Monday came to the rescue.

Now I can just relax, bake cookies, and work on my annual round of semi-inappropriate handmade Christmas cards.  Oh, and continue to work six days a week.  So that part isn't relaxing at all, but the cookies and card making - let's just focus on that part.  I'm trying to think positive thoughts, which will hopefully permeate my writing as well.  I realize that somewhere along the line, this blog became less humorous and more bitch-fest/pity-party and it's high time that is rectified.  As in righted.  Not made into an anus.  Because I always picture a cat's pooper when I hear the word 'rectified' even though a more appropriate mental association would be say, the scales of justice. 

Seriously, though, does bathroom humor ever get old?  I'm pretty sure farts will still be hilarious even when my body is so old and floppity that farts sound like wind rustling between two pieces of tissue paper. 

But I digress.  I started this post with the intention of sharing some Thanksgiving photos.  Unfortunately, some jerk (me?) forgot to turn on the flash and these pictures look like Helen Keller built a time machine and traveled to the present to punch Zombie Ray Charles as he was taking the photos. 

 If you squint, you can almost pretend that the pictures are in focus and you are the one with the problem.  Try that.

Andy's little tiny baby bird.  It's probably a baby eagle stolen directly from the nest, plucked, and smothered in bacon.  So tender and unethical.

Right where I belong - standing in front of the stove (possibly barefoot but certainly not pregnant).  Yes, I need a haircut, desperately.  Also, my awesome grandmom made me that apron for my birthday!

Modest fare.  Sandwich plate was the perfect serving platter for the eaglet.

End scene.