Another Thanksgiving weekend bites the dust.
9:55 a.m.
My in-laws are in more-or-less good health for their ages and general shape. I managed to get Hubby out of the house long enough to take him on the path I discovered the last time we were there. The weather was gorgeous: sunny but cool, and this time we met people out enjoying the fine weather, walking their dogs or sneaking into the woods for a beer. This last was an older gentleman who was just emerging when we were entering.
Thanksgiving dinner was smaller than in years past. Just my brother-in-law and his wife came from Cambridge, having returned the day before from a holiday in St. Martin�s. They were tanned and tired, my sister-in-law sporting a gorgeous diamond ring her husband had bought for her there. There was no turkey. Instead my mother-in-law prepared rectangular salmon fillets as described in my previous entry. She had also been further adventuresome and eschewed potatoes, substituting rice instead, and rounding out the meal with steamed broccoli and cauliflower (much to Uncle Al�s dismay, since he likes one and not the other and they had been cooked together), a green salad (out of which I picked red onion and mushrooms) and a green-bean casserole which I would not touch because she had added saut�ed mushrooms (the odour of which cooking earlier had nearly sent me out of the house gagging), followed up with store-bought pumpkin pie for dessert. My husband got angry with me once (not bad, just once), saying that I was �the most sensitive person� he knew. This was not � propos the mushrooms.
Yesterday we left Guelph at 11:00 a.m. and arrived in Toronto at noon. My mom had made a Thanksgiving dinner as well: split-pea soup, salad, vegetarian lasagne and homemade pumpkin pie. It was all delicious. Since the doctor took my mother off the blood-pressure medication and said she doesn�t have to be that careful with the salt intake, she has taken a renewed interest in cooking. My Israeli brother and his wife and son joined us, and it was a merry meal. After lunch we even got to spend some time in the old maple tree. Then my other brother arrived to whisk them away for an afternoon in the Disti11ery District and dinner at an Indian restaurant. My mother had some plan that this would be the opportunity for him and me to set aside our differences, but he never got out of the van. Ah well. Some other time, perhaps?
We left then too, getting on the road by 2:15 p.m. and arriving home at 9:30. The house is devoid of groceries, there is more laundry than you can shake a stick at (that is the stupidest expression ever, why did I just use it?) and I have many phone calls to make to set up doctor�s appointments, chimney cleanings, and various and sundry other domestic things. I hope you all had a good weekend.
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