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epitome of incomprehensibility
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David drove over from Toronto yesterday, sleeping in my brother's room while the said brother was over at the camp he'd been working at.
So Y. got a Thanksgiving meal yesterday and today.
This morning David and I drove to Verdun, near where he used to live, and had tea at Cha Noir, where we first met.
When we got back, my cousin L. was already there, breaking up bread for the stuffing.
The three of us, with L's dog Trixie, walked to Surrey Park, going through the "woods" at the back with their woodchip paths. But Trixie didn't like walking on that surface and L. carried her part of the way (she's a small dog).
I tried running on the grass and getting Trixie to run after me. But I felt lassitude due to a) a lack of the most energetic member of our generation - my brother; b) the dog's quickly shifting interest; and c) the uneven surface.
Look, it's Presbyterian Hymnbook Time:
"On Christ the solid rock I stand,
All other ground is shifting sand."
But I wouldn't want to run on solid rock. Hop, perhaps. Hop on Pop - "I am the Father and the Father is me."
Anyway, we were near home when I heard a voice behind us. Y!
After a short stint at home, L. rested on the couch, watching Downton Abbey with Mom while Y. speedwalked to the lakeshore and David and I ambled around Valois.
At supper, I gave David part of my heart. Okay, a turkey heart. He agreed the texture was good, but it didn't taste as much as the liver. We got the liver too because Trixie didn't want it.
Thanksgiving is also when we celebrate L's birthday; she got a number of gifts, but I also got a matcha latte mix for the love of my turkey heart. Plus, I wrapped a special book for Y.
David had spotted it outside in a box that summer: Think Big and Kick Ass by Donald Trump and (in much smaller print) Bill Zanker. It was written before the most famous Presbyterian became president of South Canada and all that jazz.
Anyway, Y. didn't make a fist-pounding kerfluffle. Didn't want to give us the satisfaction. To his subdued, "Don't be silly, Kirsten," I assured him I had real presents for when we actually celebrated his birthday.
But we did dramatic readings from the book, which is just as ridiculous as it sounds. From the back:
"You always have two options in life. You can think small or you can think big."
And from the beginning of Chapter 5:
"Life is not easy. The world is a vicious, brutal place. It's a place where people are looking to kill you, if not physically, then mentally. In the world that we live in every day it is usually the mental kill."
As the four of us settled into Settlers of Catan, I ad-libbed:
"In life, everybody gets chased by a tiger, physically or mentally. These days, most tigers are mental. As a successful real-estate developer, I MAKE those tigers."
So David and L. both tried to convince me to write a parody.
L: "Well, you can write song parodies. You wrote 'Apple of My iPod.'"
Me: "Uh, I don't think it was a parody of anything in particular."
L: "It was! Of the phrase 'apple of my eye'. And iPods."
Anyway, I am thankful for cousins, brothers, parents, and the love of my dense turkey heart. And white and caramel Lhasa Apsos, who DO like to munch on crispy turkey skin.
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