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November 25, 2005

Post-Prandial Day.

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We had a Good Time®!

Andy came by with his housemate Ashes. Andy, for those who don't keep track via SWWBO's blog, is our 20 year old son at K-State. He moved off campus this year into a 3's Company arrangement with two young ladies, except that Andy didn't have to pretend he's gay. Good thing in the event, as he's a crappy actor in that regard.

He confirmed that yesterday morning when he came out of the same bedroom that Ashes was in, where he spent the night. It would appear that Ashes (nice young lady, btw - Air Force brat, so while her pedigree isn't *quite* A-list, it *is* a good one 8^D) has, um, moved from rent-share to something-else share.

Apparently I was the only one who knew nothing. And one reason I knew nothing is because in my mom's house, I never got to sleep on the same mattress with a gurl-not-my-wife (regardless of level of liaison) until I was in my 40's and everyone knew I was going to marry SWWBO anyway. So there were concerns about stuffiness on my part - but I have taught them well - they operated under the premise that it's easier to be forgiven than to get permission.

They're right. It's easier to be sitting at the computer and bemusedly watch your son give you a cheery "Good Morning" with wave as he exits the bedroom rather than from the living room on which couch you thought he slept... than it would have been to be told, "Hi, we're sleeping together, that okay with you?" and have to actually *confront* the issue. Sometimes fait accompli is a good thing.

And it ain't like they're 17, anyway. I will admit that Andy waited longer than I did to get this entangled.

They seem to fit together well enough, and Andy has needed some civilizing, anyway. If she can get him to wear socks, she'll be a treasure.

Again this year Thanksgiving was a private party thrown by the owner of our semi-local Outback Restaurant, for employees and their families and the sociable regulars, like us. Roger does three turkeys, one smoked, one baked, one fried - the baked one was 35 lbs - Roger and Lori (his wife) alternated getting up every hour during the night before to baste the thing! Everybody brings side dishes, the bar is open, the TVs are covering every sporting event, and away we go! And when one of the mothers of an employee is a caterer... well let's just say we coulda just ate her stuff, and drank Roger's liquor and soda. We played Mad Gab, Trivial Pursuit 90's edition (where I found out I paid more attention to the 90's than I did the 80's - being overseas with no US TV can leave you really lacking in cultural referents), and shot the breeze.

It was kinda kewl, what with the dogs dropping by and all the children there - a very homey atmosphere for a restaurant! People came and went - going out to movies and then coming back to pick up where they left off. And of course, there were the faces peering in from the outside, forlornly running around the city looking for an open restaurant. In Roger's defense, he does turn off all the outside lights and tries to make the place look closed. All the cars in the parking lot are a bit of a mixed message, however. As are the people coming and going...

The only downside to it all is the vigilance Roger and his assistant manager kept on the front door (locked) when people went to answer it (letting people in, or telling the hungry that it was a private party) keeping a weather eye out for troublemakers, whether angry people (usually drunks) about it being closed, or worse. And there's a three-hour period in the afternoon where the phone doesn't quit ringing as people are trying to find an open restaurant.

We've done this for three years now with no problems, but apparently before we started coming there was an incident or two.

Had a few interesting discussions on Iraq which will probably turn into a post, and I think I did useful work splainin' things to people who simply can't get enough information from the news, and who have lives and don't live on blogs.

But most importantly - I won the Spoons* game!

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If, for some reason, bloggerpics of Thanksgiving are your thing - Jeff Quinton is host a Carnival!

*Spoons. Get a large, circular (preferred) table. Surround with good humored, competitive, possibly drunk people.

Put spoons in the middle of the table. One less than you have people.

Deal 4 cards to each person. The object is to get four of a kind. Dealer starts drawing from the deck, and discarding to the left - face down. You only keep 4 cards in your hand. Person to the left checks the card, and either passes it, or keeps it and discards a card from their hand. Play continues until someone has four of a kind. Whoever has four of a kind, grabs a spoon. Everybody else drops what they're doing and grabs a spoon. Person left *without* a spoon gets a letter - until you spell out SPOONS. Get that last "S" and you're out.

When you lose a player, remove a spoon, so you always have one less spoon than players. There are *many* strategies. Last night, mine worked.

It's a physical game. We broke a table leg and two beer mugs. Roger may require a damage deposit next year... 8^D