Went to TR’s this year for Thanksgiving, which is my usual preference — his daughter is a fabulous cook.  Thanksgiving at TR’s has always drawn an assortment of guests, primarily people who have nowhere else to go.  This year the company was particularly good. 

    Several changes this year, aside from the obvious one.  For one thing, the remainder of TR’s gun collection — whatever was left after various friends and relatives took their pick — has been sold.  This was a both a sight unsettling (bare cabinets), and also a great relief for the SuperHusband and me:  Thursday morning, Mr. Boy had inquired if he couldn’t have one of the guns with a bayonet on the end.   This would have been a very hard request to turn down, between the sentimental value and the historic interest.  And yet, there is something about "7-year-old-boy" and "item with bayonet on the end" that gives a parent cause for pause.  

    The funniest change though, is that we got to sit in the living room.  You know, the room with the antique furniture that no one is ever allowed to use?  This particular one being clad in 35-year-old-and-still-unstained pale yellow carpet.  And we used the real crystal.  There was a definite feeling of the "the adults are away, the children are getting into things".

    In all, a very good Thanksgiving.

***

    After a warm and cloudy Thanksgiving we had a stunningly clear, bright Friday-after.  SuperHusband took the big kids to the Congaree Swamp National Park; little girls and I played in the leaves of the Syrup Maple.   Colors this year turned out better than expected.  On the drive to TR’s, the interstate was lined with striking patches of deep and vivid reds against the dark green of pines.   Here’s the syrup maple, taken earlier in the week or late last week, can’t remember.

    As of this morning, all maple leaves are down now, except for the Miserly Maple, which won’t let go of the remainder of its stash until sometime in the spring.

***

    In other news: Mystery ailment remains a mystery.  Orthopedist shook his head.   But he’s investigating.   He had the distinction of telling me not to worry about trying to rest, seeing as it hasn’t helped.  That was nice, in the sense that he called off the Leg Police.  Not resting, of course, is a source of symptoms that inspire rest anyway, so it’s essentially a wash.   Super nice guy, though.  See him again next Friday.

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