the ocean

We had a strange but somewhat wonderful Thanksgiving holiday here at Schleppington Manor, as my sister and her family all got COVID and were unable to join us. Since so much of what we typically do revolves around the children, that was a bit of a change, but it turned out pretty well. With an adults only Thanksgiving, we were able to swear as much as we wanted and walk around topless, which of course we did not do. Basically, we went to our buffet luncheon and talked about the kids instead of talking to them. And the cornbread chorizo stuffing was absolute fire, as one would expect.

As is our usual practice, we watched both the Macy's parade and the sad Chicago parade as we decorated, which was cozy. I'm a huge fan of the random combinatorics that leads to things like a Jennie O Turkey float with Paula Abdul dancing like there literally might not be a tomorrow because her joints are killing her. On the Chicago side, it's more of a learning that things exist vibe, as traditional Lithuanian dancers and Ghostbusters enthusiasts debut on State Street. Fine background for discovering lights have burnt out after getting them on the tree and nitpicking the placement of ornaments.

I also took my mom to see Twelfth Night at Chicago Shakespeare, since she didn't get the excitement of the children this year. We enjoyed it immensely, particularly since they had pared it down to a tight two hours with intermission. There's almost nothing I enjoy so much I don't want it over quickly.