Gobble, gobble

Hey. It's 5:30 a.m., Thanksgiving, and I'm awake. I don't want to be awake, but I am. I'd probably still be asleep if my husband hadn't woken up an hour ago and screamed like a little girl while I was leaning over him to check the clock. Apparently, I startled him. At any rate, his screaming like a bitch switched the receptors in my brain from dim to fully lit, which brings us to this very moment. We'll be going over to our friends' house to eat today, but I've got a turkey thawing in the sink to cook later. We normally have Thanksgiving someplace other than home and I didn't use to make a turkey when we didn't stay here, but then I started realizing how much it sucks not having leftover turkey. And, obviously, me trying to blog in the wee hours of the morning doesn't make for very scintillating prose. Ah, well, I suppose I can't always be interesting.

I just sent a note to a friend of mine who's working as a contractor in the Middle East, and I'm wondering if he'll get any turkey today. Mind you, it doesn't sound like they're too badly set up as far as food goes with some of the stuff he's told me they get in the mess hall, but there are some things that are nice to be able to take for granted, like a nice turkey on Thanksgiving. Lobster is nice, but--you know--it's just not the same. So to all of you who are away from family and home, I hope you get good and stuffed on what you love best.