The Day After Thanksgiving

I have so much to be thankful for.
I drove 85 miles to Austin yesterday morning to be with my biological family for the holiday. All well over 40, we get along just fine.
We have an hilarious matriarch, who at 89 can still tell a room why George Dubya is an imbecile. She was nursing little glasses of cassis and feeling no pain.
My sister's lover-in-law (that's her lesbian lover's mother) is also a lesbian who
co-founded the Human Rights Campaign. She was there with cutting edge political gossip and a total disregard for any semblance of pretending to be straight.
My adopted sister, another lesbian, was there practicing Oriental medicine on my big brother's headache. It worked like magic.
Everyone in my family appreciates a nice spread, so we had two kinds of turkey, a spiral cut ham, mashed potatoes and potato salad, yams with Grand Marnier, some kind of creamed corn from some snazzy restaurant, little puffy rolls, green peas, and the best part was the way the gravy was served. No little gravy boat for this crowd, my sister serves it in a giant soup tureen with a huge ladle.
There were three kinds of pies, pecan, pumpkin and apple, all homemade.
I had brought with me some Nouveau Beaujolais, a bottle of cassis and some Cuban cigars.
I got home around 7 and was too tired to do anything but futz around on the computer.
I met an interesting woman online and we shared one of those "My Dinner With Andre" kinds of conversations. It spilled over to the telephone and ended in the wee hours.
I woke up wondering what that was all about, but smiling as I wondered.
Tonight is a liberal Mexican wedding between two journalist friends of mine. That's another blog.