They grow so fast.

Pepe…as his name appears to be at this point.

He’s losing his black coat and it’s growing in brown…which is his true color. Soon enough he will be a true Chocolate Golden-doodle. I wonder how big he will get? If he’s anything like Taz, he will be HUGE.

I’m sitting outside right now, snapping pictures of my puppy and sipping a spiked apple cider. And thinking about work. Last weekend was pretty rough. A favorite patient of mine coded, and we “saved” him… and I just heard he died today. It took him a week to do so. Sometimes I ask myself, when these codes happen, should we do it all? Is it worth it? Of course, legally we have no choice in most cases. We have to not only do it all, we have to do more. And the life is often saved but only for the short term. We’re pretty invasive too, when someone codes. It’s not a pretty sight; heck it’s not even as cleansed up as a show like Grey’s Anatomy makes it appear.

It’s not easy working with the population I work with. Sometimes it’s a NUT HOUSE at work. I swear Full Moon Madness comes each month like clockwork. A few of the patients are not in comas or other states of altered conscience…usually they are coming out of a horrific brain injury and this is very challenging to deal with. We get beat up, kicked, picked up and thrown, spat at, hair pulled…you name it, we get it. I cannot recall a weekend where I have not been bruised, badly, at work.

When it’s not the patients, it’s the staff I work with. Someone is always in an uproar about something. I have little patience for the bullshit too. I don’t get into stupid gossip sessions and bitch breaks. I rise above the politics of the place (most the time lol) and just do my job…and a lot of the time I do much of my co workers’ work as well. Many of them are half my age and I run circles around every one of them. There is something different with younger people and their work ethic, that is for sure. I don’t like it at all either. Lazy takes on a whole new meaning these days. So does entitlement. Thankfully I don’t need the ego building bulloney so many people seem to depend upon from their careers…I KNOW I am highly skilled and above well tuned into what I have to do.

Work has been busy as hell too…I go in every weekend and run almost all day…my day is 16 hours long and when I stop at 10pm, I usually hurt all all over and feel emotionally drained. For quite a portion of this past spring I worked 12 hour shifts in the Physical Therapy dept…this was a requirement for my schooling. I found that I missed the nursing though, so eventually I started helping in my former nursing dept unit. Now, I’m back there- nursing units, every weekend. In spite of the negatives that do happen, I find myself truly content and satisfied with this work. With all it’s bad parts- nursing- the good is always present. There is nothing like hands on, nitty gritty nursing work to keep a person humble and in check of becoming to big for themselves. The endless tasks that must be done, for me, are what keeps my patients comfortable, pain free and able to heal. Sure, the work is back breaking and I’m never caught up. My feet KILL me by the time my weekend is up. And the pay sucks all in all…But when one sees the real fruits of their labor all the pain of this work is very worth IT. I wouldn’t do anything else for a living.

Which leads me to the thought: Do I really want to be a Physical Therapist? I always thought I did. I have dreamed about it. I respect the work they do and some of it is more important than nursing. I would sure as hell make a lot more money. But I’m not sure I would be…content. And this is very important to me. What good is life when you’re making lots of money- but the manners and ways you earn that money are not fulfilling? Money means nothing to me. Being happy and content DOES.

After work Sunday evening I’m heading back to Maine. Where I will be pondering this, and a few other deep things spinning ’round my head. Life offers us all so many choices and chances; sometimes we’re always looking for more, more when it’s the last thing we really want and need. Damn this cidah must be really spiked tonight! Have a good week.

What can I say? It’s been wonderful. Relaxing. Totally inspiring, to be here at my favorite place in the world. Me and the ocean are meant to be together.

Who wouldn’t want to wake up to this sunrise at 4:55am every day?

Or, watch a sunset that my kids describe as a nuclear explosion?

Monday- out to the deep sea for some fishing (and yes I got sick…)

Headin out–

Steamin Past Whaleback Light in Kittery Harbor

Some drunk fool who flirted with me the entire time we were out (what a dork)-

One of my daughters’ BF showing off his (non) muscles lol-she took these pictures…

Just people hanging out-

Everywhere one goes, they smell THESE awful things- which grow wild and crazy up here:

ICK!!

Tuesday we visited the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard…

And yesterday we went on a pre-season, specially just for us (lol we have a special friend who owns the tour boat) whale watch (and yes, I got sick but not too bad-) These pictures were taken by one of my kids:

I already know this: I don’t want to return home at all. I want to stay here. Forever.

Another LIST. WHO writes these things anyways??

And why do my friends send these to me begging to pass it one to 5 other people via email?? And if I don’t reply within 5 minutes I face a lifetime of bad luck??

Have You Ever:::
(x) Had frozen cotton candy
(x) Been sea sick
(x) Hung the phone up on someone
( ) Eaten something you could not identify
(x) Sat on a beach during a thunderstorm
(x) Swam in the ocean during a thunderstorm
(x) Ended a long term relationship with a spouse/lover
( ) Been on the edge of a volcano
( ) Been stood up on a date
( ) Gambled a substantial amount of money and LOST
( ) Been so sunburned you had to go to the hospital
(x) Watched a baby being born
( ) Eaten bugs to impress someone
( ) Done speed dating
(x) Played cowboy and indian
(x) Played hookie from work
( ) Had many different lovers at the same time
(x) Walked the length of a roller coaster when it’s not in use
(x) Melted M & M’s on a brownie
( ) Snail mailed a chain letter
(x) Run out of gas

Your first date- age?
40.

First Vehicle, yr, make and model:
1982 Chevy Chevette

Red Meat: Rare or well done?
Rare

Chicken: Baked or fried?
Fried!

Potatoes: Baked, Mashed or Boiled?
Grilled.

Coke or Pepsi
COKE!!

Best town/city you ever lived in:
My home town

Worst town/city you ever lived in/visited:
Provo and Salt Lake City Utah

Neat freak or slob:
NEAT FREAK

How often do you clean your bathroom:
(x) Daily
() Weekly
() Monthly
() NEVER

Internet: How long have you been online? 12 yrs or so
Web Sites? How many? 3
Favorite Search Engine: Google (***sigh***)

How many jobs have you had?
4

A)Women and children first
Or
B)Every man for himself
KIDS first, before women and then before men.

What matters most?
A) Being rich and in need of nothing, but lonely
B) Being poor and in need of a lot, in a great and fulfilling relationship
B. Any day.

You’re old, not in the best of health and being admitted to a nursing home. You can only take 5 things you own with you. Of all your possessions, what would you take?
1) My pistol
2) My rifle
3) My ammo
4) My music
5) —–don’t need nuthin else!

I’m all done with classes. YAY!!! Yesterday was IT…finals are done and that means no more studying. No more crazy 60 plus page reports. No more researching beYond researching. And I can rest assured knowing full well that I have passed it all with flYing A plusses.

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A list. (from friends)

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What’s more relaxing than going to the open markets to shop for food???

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LOLOLOLOL!!!!

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When I was a little kid my family would spend several weeks every summer up in Maine- specifically Wells Beach. My folks rented a house right on the beach, for three or four weeks in July. The family vacation was something we all looked forward to every year.

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Awe.

He’s so CUTE. And little. And warm. And fuzzy.

AND HE”S ALL MINE!!!!

Meet….umm….I haven’t named him yet.

All puckered out on my bed after coming home and meeting Taz…and after having his first bath…and scaring all the cats into hiding.

This is an odd shot. He looks like a…stuffed animal or sumthin. LOL…Just checking out his new digs. And scratching the heck
out of my floor when he ran off…

Here you go…all you men out there who are seeking a wife, or someone of equal importance to fill your lives:

Divorced Boston businessman in late 40s with beautiful home and lots of dough seeks single woman, mid to late 30s, for marriage and babies. Must be thin and possess classic good looks. He’s a warm and cuddly guy who enjoys golf, sailing, and tennis. If interested, call his matchmaker at 212-987-1582.

That number belongs to Janis Spindel of Janis Spindel Serious Matchmaking, emphasis on the serious. She’s a woman on a mission: To find a wife for a client she calls “Jeremy,” a Boston man who has hired her for $100,000.

WHOA….he’s willing to pay up that kind of cash to hire someone to find him a wife? No thanks. What a boring dork, I can tell already. Cause he’s too lazy to do the dirty work himself and he’s willing to pay someone else to do it. Pay them a lot of money. (And having a lot of money automatically disqualifies a man from my heart to begin with.)

The concept is familiar to viewers who have seen reality shows such as “The Bachelor”: Wealthy man gets help finding soul mate, roster of women compete for his affections. But in this case, the rich guy is paying a princely sum, sort of like a company using a headhunter to find its next CEO.

For crying out loud, this is stupid. Let’s call this Spousehunting. How romantic is this?

In the 15 years she has been in the matchmaking business, Spindel claims responsibility for 760 marriages and “massive thousands in committed relationships.” She speaks in hyperbole and italics, and tends to repeat her words for dramatic effect. “I’m dealing with gorgeous men — gorgeous! — who have it all, from billionaires in Bel Air to humongous movers and shakers in Washington to awesome guys in Boston. The only piece missing is a woman, and that’s when they come to me.”

Gorgeous men, who have it all, are also known as highly ego’d, highly fluffed and highly spoiled nerds who are not capable of forming a relationship on their own because of said ego, fluff and spoil factors. Not my type. At all. I wonder how much she charges a construction worker or a fisherman for her services?? Oh wait…the construction guys and fishermen aren’t so desperate they have to resort to a paid service to find their other half. They do it all by themselves. They’re real men who don’t need any help in this department.

Be very clear: This isn’t about hooking up. It’s about settling down. Nothing drives Spindel crazier than being called a dating service. “I am a matchmaker,” she says. “A man can get dates on his own. I’m a little too expensive for that. And I don’t deal with trophy wives. I’m looking to match soul mates.”

No…Let’s be clear: You cater to a crowd of men who have little to no confidence in themselves. Money doesn’t buy those things, nor does it guarantee an endless supply of dates and women…no no. A man has to have other qualities in order to rate the title of soul mate. AND a soul mate cannot be bought- for any amount of money…no one can find the perfect person for another. It has to be something we each seek ourselves.

Spindel is meticulously turned out in a black-and-white Chanel pantsuit, her naturally curly hair freshly blown out. “Men like long, straight hair,” she says. And she’s constantly going on breakfast, lunch, and dinner “dates” with her clients, to see how they act. The man must pick the restaurant and pay for the meal, over which he will be grilled like the rib eye on the menu. Spindel also notes how the men treat her: their manners, their sophistication — or lack thereof. “I need to know they’re a man with a plan,” she says.

What’s wrong with longer, wild curly messy hair??? Sheesh. I’ve never known a man who didn’t like my hair!

My guy friends, who live in my small exclusive world of the lower classes, would cause this woman to faint if they went out together. I can see it now. My guy friends would drag her along to some pub where the menu is chalked on a blackboard; where patrons go outside (in all weather) and cook their own damn burgers made with ground beef they mix with their own hands (gasp!!)- grilling their own food while they guzzle down beers and burp and fart and smoke cheap cigars, and tell funny but sexually themed jokes. Later, she would just be disgusted when all the heavy pine tables are brought together to make a dance floor…and the music gets real loud, and the guys lift her up onto the tables for some real dancing…oh my.. she would cry over the rips in her fancy Chanel suit and she would scream when her high heels were tossed onto floor as everyone grabs hands and starts dancing together wild and high and some fall off the tables (and keep dancing anyway). She would have a stroke when she woke up the next am, slightly hungover, the man handing her a bill for her portion of the food and beer.

I can see her now- the horror of observing my friends and guys being who we are- just regular working class folk who know how to have a good time, real unplanned and zany FUN- and who truly LIKE doing the things that don’t cost a fortune. And some of us actually find love doing these things! We find the better half at the pubs getting trashed and passing out after the crazy dancing. It. Happens. Without. The. Hundred Grand.

Her own plan includes various levels, from a $25,000 “basic” package that Spindel says takes her “five minutes” to match from her database of women to a $100,000 “elite” plan consisting of an out-of-town client and a casting call that can involve hundreds of women. Spindel has already met with Jeremy several times and sent him to an image consultant, who took him to Bergdorf Goodman, where he dropped $10,000 on clothes.

Yawn. So we have different plans to chose from eh? Get real. Men who have the kind of money Jeremy has don’t need an image overhaul. Are men really dumb enough to believe this bullshit and to actually PAY for it? (That was a stupid question…the answer is YES.)

Now Jeremy is ready for the next step: the match. The woman must be from the Boston or Providence areas. (”He lives in Boston in a sick, awesome house,” Spindel says. “Totally awesome.”) The bachelorette search, as she calls it, will take place April 13-15 in a conference room at the Boston Marriott Copley Place; only those who made appointments with Spindel beforehand will be allowed in.

But the star of the show, Jeremy, will be nowhere in sight. Like her other clients, he won’t be identified for an obvious reason: He doesn’t want anyone to know he has resorted to this. “He would break out in hives, sweat, and bumps big time if people knew,” she says.

He’s a useless POS who happens to also be a wimp. Does he break out in hives whenever he meets a woman? Some how I think so.

Spindel’s clients insist on anonymity. “He’s funny, he’s totally down to earth, he has the most magnificent home. He’s a-DOR-able,” she says, stressing the middle syllable. “He’s a pretty public guy, big time in Boston. Everyone would know who he is.”

So if he’s so a-DOR-able — not to mention rich — why does he have to pay big bucks to find a woman? Is he a loser? Desperate?

Spindel shoots a killer look. “First of all, if he’s a loser, I wouldn’t be sitting across the table from him. And if he’s desperate, I wouldn’t be involved.”

No, it’s all about time, she says. These captains of industry are too busy to meet Ms. Right, so they hire her to screen candidates. Everyone outsources everything these days — why not love?

Outsourcing love. It sounds so efficient doesn’t it? Funny, most times I hear the word OUTSOURCE I think…cheaper product. But this service is extreme. In expense and promise. I believe anyone can find the things they really want, in a reasonable amount of time, if they put their heart and soul into it. Money isn’t needed to buy love. Or to arrange it.

And I know I am immune to this sort of bulloney. I’m not wealthy or beautiful. I’m no trophy. I can’t be bought. Thankfully so.

So what kind of driver are you? Male or female??

Your Driving Is is: 61% Male, 39% Female

According to studies, you generally drive like a typical male. You’re confident in your driving skills, and hardly any situation gets the better of you. And while you may have a few tickets under your belt, you’re still a very good driver.

I’m a good driver…I have never been in an accident; I drive fast and I do tend to get pissed off at idiOts who DO cause me to experience some rage…but overall, I have been told thousands of times that I am a better driver than most.

I’m not a religious person. I never have been. The only time I go to a church is for a wedding or a funeral. And then I never feel anything different. I’ve never read a Bible or other book about this stuff. I’m not well versed in this issue. At all.

In contrast my brother, who is eight years older than me, IS very religious. He wasn’t always…when we were growing up he was an obnoxious twerp as most brothers are; he was mean to me and teased me, and at times he did things that physically hurt me. I’ll never forget the day he decided to teach me how to ride a 10 speed bike:

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This week’s Friday Feast (revised cause I got the new meme)

Appetizer
If you could take lessons to learn any musical instrument, which would you want to learn?
Hmm. I plead the 5th here. (Hint: I like drums).

Soup
Have you ever mistaken a person for someone else?
Heck yeah and all the time. At work, around town…even in class. I don’t usually apologize either cause until I really get to know someone- people are a lot alike. I don’t generally mix up people due to their looks though.

Salad
On a scale of 1 to 10 with 10 being highest, how well do you keep secrets?
My own secrets and those of my family are above a 10. What comes to me, stays with me. I rarely divulge my own “secrets”…
The secrets of my friends are always a 10. When it comes to gossip stuff, it depends. I’d give myself an 8.

Main Course
What’s the closest you’ve ever been to a dangerous animal?
Up in Maine- I’ve been seen sitting near black bears. Don’t know how dangerous they are….

Dessert
When was the last time you lost your patience?
A few minutes ago when I made my coffee and forgot to turn on the pot.
With OBJECTS, I tend to go NUTTY much easier than with people.

I lose patience with people who are ignorant and rude. It takes time to reach my boiling point, but once I’m there, watch out.
People who blow me off, ignore me and similar things- I lose patience gracefully but forever.

Another December 25th has come and gone again.

Christmas is what we make it. It’s not always about being with family and friends- although that is preferred by most. Sometimes it’s about personal sacrifice and giving to others what they cannot give to themselves. For those of us who work on this holiday- we don’t complain or get negative. We keep our spirits up and remember: It’s not about us.

There’s nothing like working the holidays. In my line of work someone (more like someONES) has to be working 24/7/365…and this will be my 12th year that I’ve spent my Christmas day- a double (16 hour) shift- choosing to care for those less fortunate than the rest of us. It’s a sacrifice- to me, my family and friends. But it’s always worth it.

We get paid triple time today. Not too bad- it’s like working 6 shifts instead of two. We have the same numbers of staff working- the ratio doesn’t change just because it’s a holiday. The doctors are here; the nurses, aides, housekeepers, maintenance guys. In most healthcare facilities doctors and bosses get this day off and take on the coveted “On Call” status. Not where I work. Management laid out a policy years ago: If it’s your scheduled day to work, you need to be there. Secretaries and similar support role staff get the day off but no one else. The VIPS of my facility were at their desks today.

Our patients have the same needs and requirements today- it doesn’t change just because it’s a holiday. Nursing care doesn’t stop or become less important just because it’s a holiday. Meds and treatments still must be given; baths and showers and ROM must still be done; trach cannulas need care and tube feedings must be given and central line flushes are still necessary- these medical needs don’t stop just because it’s a holiday. Vital signs and arterial blood gas levels must be monitored, and ventilator rates have to be adjusted. IV’s still run on holidays too.

What does change, because it’s Christmas, is the attitude of those of us who are here. We’re more festive. We come to work decked out in holiday print scrubs and we bring in gifts for co-workers; each of us agrees to cook a part of a meal we’ll all enjoy.

The doctors always bring in GOOD coffee - the crap they provide up here SUCKS - and this year we got the really good stuff from our MD’s. Our patient’s families tend to be around a lot on Christmas- and they bring in trays of shrimp, boxes of donuts and platters of cheese and crackers. Some bring gifts for their favorite nurses and aides. The unit is decorated but only to a certain point: Most of our patients have seizure disorders and little things like Christmas lights often trigger epileptic episodes which quickly become life threatening for them. So we don’t have lights. We also have to keep in check the very real possibility of items being medically dirty- infection control rules over most everything else. Little Santas and Elves and garlands and the like are not to be seen on these units- they collect dust and germs which are not at all good for the population who resides here. It’s cheerful but not overly done.

We make the best of it on Christmas. This afternoon, we broke up into two groups. Each group sat down in a private conference room and ate a dinner that was really good: Work provided prime rib and each of us brought in various crock pots and pans full of potatoes, gravies, stews, veggies, casseroles, sandwiches, rolls, pies, cakes, cookies and drinks (non alcoholic of course). We had desserts- so many it was hard to pick one to devour. A couple hours after we all ate, we broke up into the groups again. Outside we went to the field in front of our building…to play a game of rough and tough touch football. That’s a tradition here. We strip out of the work gear, don play clothes and go get dirty and have some fun while we’re at it.

That’s how I’ve spent my day today. It’s almost time to go home. My kids spent their day with their Dad and his family…and tomorrow morning they’re joining me and we’re heading to Maine to the beaches and then to Bar Harbor (yes, in December!!). My kids and I will be spending several days together without anyone else… I’ll be back in the area Thursday to prepare for our BIG ASS New Years Party- at the lodge. We have no idea how many people will show up…it will be well over 200 though. I’m working next weekend- and after my shift ends Sunday evening (New Year’s eve)- it’s MY turn to party.

Heather and Kim will be posting here starting tomorrow…be good to them or I’ll kick your asses.

I love the rain.

Ever since I was a little kid, I go outside when it’s raining. The heavier, the better. I can still smell the rain too- from those days when I was little and would play for hours at a time…either in the mud pit or out in the woods. The forest- during a rain storm smells different. Mossy. Grassy. Woodsy. Something like it. The fun things to do in the woods included peeling the moss off of rocks and boulders (and putting the green stuff into my pockets to bring home to Mom…); picking up old leaves to see what kinds of bugs lived under them (and putting those into my pockets too, for Mom…) taking the bark off of trees was a lot easier too when they were wet. I remember the birch trees- white peeling sheets that rolled off with ease and little effort. Making forest “stew” out of chunks of wet wood and funky rocks- mixing them with dirt and mud and leaves and twigs. Yummy. If I had a bowl or other container I would make a batch up and attempt to bring it home.

Down the road from the house was a big field with lots of tall dirt pits- that turned into mudslides every time it rained. My favorite place to play during these times. My parents forbade me from doing that- going up those mound of mud- because I might fall into them and be lost forever (so they told me…) but I always snuck up anyway. And I never got smooshed down into the mud either. But I did get dirty as heck- I would slide down the sides of that thing over and over again. It was cold and slimy and wet and I had a great time. All sorts of little creatures lived there too- frogs and toads and water bugs and other insects. They were my friends when no one else was allowed to come out and play. I was a tomboy and then some…getting dirty didn’t bother me in the least. My sneakers and clothes literally turned black everytime it rained.

It was always great fun to walk the trail around the pond too when it was raining. Big maple and oak trees were along the shore of the pond, with huge trunks that hung out over the water. Being wet made for a more fun time swinging on them and jumping into the water…always a dangerous thing for me cause I didn’t know how to swim yet. I did that in an effort to clean up a little before going home for lunch.

My poor mother. No wonder she always had five pairs of sneakers for me and many sets of clothes. No matter how filthy I was, she always welcomed me back home. But I did have to strip down to nakedness and she did spray me off with the yard hose first…she would clean out my fingernails, then she’d wrap me up in a towel and dry me off, bring me in for soup and a sandwich and milk. She would re-braid my hair as I ate and go on and on about what a messy girl I was…then I would get dressed again and run outside to do it all over again. Everytime it rained. Thunder never stopped me. Lightening never stopped me.

At night the lightening used to scare me though. It would wake me up and I would go to my parents bed and snuggle up with them- my Dad always woke up and told me not to worry. It’s weird how it looks so different during the day- lightening- then night.

The ocean is another place I love to be when it rains and storms. The waves are full of anger and strength; the greenish-blue water foams and froths and stirs with incredible force. Crashing, thunderous noises arise with every lightening bolt; it will blind you if you watch it. The lightening seems to come down from the sky and seers the water- which lights up like a million candles.
Huge piles of seaweed make their way to shores, eventually to stuck in some place where there’s not enough water to maintain their life. They dance and whither and move about in strange ways.

It’s much louder at the beach too- these storms. I suppose that’s because there is nothing to buffer the sounds of a violent ocean. The sea gulls don’t seem to fear these storms either as you can always watch them- they dive down into the water looking for and finding fish…and they fly to the beaches and devour their catch. They sing strange songs too during a storm- and one can always hear them over the thunder.

The scent of the ocean is stronger during the rain as well. The salty air can be felt, almost touched. The odor lasts for hours after the rains end.

Rain.
It’s relaxing and calming. It’s been raining most the week up here…and a little while ago it thundered and I just had to go out to play again. I got down into the mud and looked for frogs and toads and bugs and all that- my dog looked with me. I got all dirty and had to shower off when I came in…I hope I never lose my love for the rain.

Yikes. Bullshit articles full of lies and half truths really piss me off…especially when it comes to the current, modern day myths about the female orgasm. It’s a rare woman these days who can really experience what should be an everyday, several times a day event. I daresay that if women really had them, we wouldn’t see so many sexually dysfunctional ladies in this world.

THIS IS VERY ADULT IN NATURE. Consider yourself warned!!

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And so another Thanksgiving has come and gone. This year was much like last- our celebration and get together. We rented a lodge and invited over 100 people to come wine and dine with us. Many more showed up. What a lot of work it was.

Having so many different people of all walks of life together, in one big room, meant we had to cook for different tastes…doctors and nurses; aides; housekeepers and maintenance staff; fishermen; truck drivers; VP’s and Presidents of my employer; car mechanics and construction workers. Electricians and plumbers. Teachers and university professors.

The lodge is a perfect place to hold such a huge gathering. Many fireplaces and huge expanses of windows; an enormous industrial size kitchen with all the works; firepits outside for bonfires (the weather’s been WET and FOGGY and RAINY as usual).
Big comfy couches and large floor pillows and rocking chairs to accommodate so many. It was indeed perfect.

The Menu:
Chips and Dips and crackers and cheeses
Meatballs and homemade breads and fancy spreads
Corn Chowder
Clam Chowder
Veggie Soup
Turkey (22)
Stuffing
Mashed Potatoes (120lbs)
Sweet Potatoes (80lbs)
Baked Potatoes (50 lbs)
Lobster (24)
Baked Haddock (24)
Grilled Steaks (24)
Veggie Lasagna (7 pans)
Veggie Shepards Pie (4 pans)
Corn on the Cob
Green Beans
Carrots
Salads

Dessert:
Apple, pumpkin, blueberry, pecan and cranberry pies (7 each)
Chocolate pecan bake (6)
Brownies, cookies, apple crisps, ice creams and cake.
And lots of toppings and whipped cream.

All served on our best china: Paper plates.
LOL (YOU do all the dishes to support such a feast!!)

Coffee. Beer (7 kegs). Wine. Sodas.

It was a great time- cooking, laughing, making huge messes and cleaning it all up after. The feasting began last evening…
and lasted most the day today. There were barely any leftovers! Some got drunk; some had no booze to drink…others sipped ice water and sodas.

Everyone was thankful- for their lives, their families, friends and for the company. All of us have something in common- we’re all intertwined through my work. Husbands and wives, children, grandchildren, parents, siblings and long lost cousins. My work is the central piece of this puzzle that made up the big crowd. No one was snobby and uptight…everyone mingled with everyone else…lots of table hopping and bopping. A very relaxed and good time for all.

I’m home now and it’s good to be here. A very busy week is over. I’ve eaten so much I doubt I’ll chow down again for days!
Hope everyone had a wonderful ans safe and thankful day.