Saturday, November 24, 2007

quiet

orange

This tree stands just in front of my brother's house along the Delaware River.

Thanksgiving was fun, a somewhat raucous and hedonistic affair. I don't usually drink but my brother's partner (I refuse to call her girlfriend because she is a woman, not a girl) made cranberry daquiris upon my arrival, and I indulged just enough to get a pleasant buzz but not a headache nor a hangover. The food was great; my vegetables were a huge hit--I made brussels sprouts which will change any hater's mind in an instant; they have never failed--and roasted carrots (with garlic, rosemary and thyme, and baked butternut squash with coconut oil, dried cane juice and salt and pepper. There were like five different pies all made by C (brother's partner) and a very nice turkey (all organic of course) and much wine also.

My nephews, the two younger ones, were a bit wild (lots of running and high decibels which threatened to take my sanity) but they enjoyed themselves, clearly.

Today I installed a new light fixture in the kitchen (not an easy task but successful with some crucial assistance from Y who is far better at such things than I) and cleaned.

I have been quite irritable lately which I think is a symptom of some classic hypomania which I am keeping under control by breathing, a little clonazepam and a little weed. So far so good, but not without some stress to those around me.

3 comments:

she said...

spectacular tree! and your post has made me hungry for breakfast...

sounds like a healthy, happy, thanksgiving; connecting w/family over a great meal

and nice recipe for coping with irritability

love, ~s.

about a boy said...

such a beautiful tree.

medusa said...

I wholeheartedly agree about "girlfriend." I can't imagine calling someone my "boyfriend" when he's in his 40's, but "the guy I'm dating" is awkward. Luckily (sadly?) I don't have to worry about it right now.

My mother cutely calls her father-in-law's friend his "lady friend" which also seems funny, but at least it refers to an 80-something woman who probably doesn't mind being called a lady. Another friend calls his father's companion his "lover" but I think that brings up too many unwanted images.