Thanksgiving on the mountain

I returned on Monday from my southern Thanksgiving vacation. It was a gas as usual (and not just because I kept putting the whoopee cushion under Robert's chair at the dinner table. Whoopee cushion! Never not funny!).

I flew in on Thursday, so we had Thanksgiving on Saturday—that way the uncles could join us, too. Friday I went with Amy and Cheri to the tattoo parlor so Amy could get a tattoo. It was an... interesting place, with all lady tattooers, which is fine and all—more girl power to you—but one lady had tattoos on her forehead. I thought only Carly Smithson's husband was allowed to have face tattoos. Friday my uncles Bill and Kent also arrived for the weekend, with a case of wine and we wasted no time with that.

Saturday Miss Bobbie and her men folk arrived late morning and we (everyone but me) started making dinner. Miss Bobbie made her famous 9 O'Clock Stuffing, so renamed because when my grandma heard Bobbie was making stuffing she said, "The last time Bobbie made stuffing, we didn't eat until 9 o'clock!" Which no one remembers ever happening. So we had planned to call Grandma on Saturday at around 3 or 4 and ask her for her stuffing recipe. Unfortunately she was on to us making fun of her.

We breaked for a Fireplace Family Foto Shoot. We shot all couples first, which left PLENTY of room for jokes about me and my cousin Michael dating. (Cousins dating! Never not funny!) Then Amy and Cheri arrived, we took more pictures, watched football (which I'm starting to maybe enjoy, I SAID MAYBE), and sat down to a lovely dinner. My plan to eat more than I've ever eaten before went swimmingly, and I only had mind-numbing gas pains for about five hours.

Sunday the mountain was cloaked in thick fog,so we took a drive down to a historic geyser, which was not turned on. It was cold and rainy. We stopped for lunch at a cute cafe in Black Mountain and again I ate more than I've ever eaten before.

It was good to be in the house with everything moved in. It felt like home. Home on top of a mountain, with nothing but trees and bears and wild turkeys. When I move in (inevitable with two spare beds and a DVR), it will become like Grey Gardens—after we phase Robert out, to Llama Vista, a local condo community overlooking the neighboring llama farm. Big Edie and Little Edie together again, just like old times.



This was before she nearly fainted and Face Tattoo (not pictured) sprung into action.


Having just a smidge of wine at the Secret View.


We burried Charlie at the Secret View, so his dadas (Robert) can sit with him while he has some winey bits. He was a good boy.

Fireplace Family Foto Shoot:

Miss Bobbie and her beau, David.

Big Edie and Little Edie.

My mom dressed him while he was on the phone with my grandma. This makes me laugh every time.

Uncle Billy's famous Toasted Head Gravy.

These two were sending Monk-E-Mails to everyone they know.

Sunrise on Monday.

From the drive down the mountain—after the fog cleared.