Gary and I spent the weekend in Eatonia, with my mom, dad and my Grandma Clara. The ham, the turkey, the trimmings, the cake, the pie, the many delicious treats were all present and accounted for- well, the layered Jello salad may have gotten the short end of the stick this year, but we'll let that go.
The weekend was spent eating and relaxing. And eating. And then more relaxing. I read all day on Sunday, starting and finishing the new Dan Brown book. Which is good, but if you're looking to buy it, I'd wait for the paperback. It's not that good.
We drank wine and shared laughs and my mom spent the entire weekend playing Farmville on facebook. We napped and watched the Riders kick some icy Toronto butts and enjoyed several documentaries about animals in HD.
But something was missing.
Something that I was surprised to miss.
My little brother and his lady-friend are backpacking through Europe, and contrary to the opinion of several people who asked my mom, did not return to Canada for the weekend. (duh.)
I didn't realize how much I missed that little annoying arrogant opinionated bullheaded...lovely brother of mine until he wasn't around.
And so, Thanksgiving teaches me something yet again. Last year I learned not to gesture wildly with my fork hand while eating pie with whipped cream. This year...the importance of family during family holidays.
Christmas - my first away from the clan - is going to be rough.
1 day ago