The Thanksgiving table this year is the super-now combination of fine and rustic. Burlap, twine, steampunk lables, and the obligatory lantern (featuring polished nickel! Do you know how hard that was to track down. Similar ones here.) intermingle with my China plates (which I found in the last box in the storage room, fancy be-garlanded chandeliers, and silver chargers. This might be the first time I’ve left the table uncovered. Got to work in that natural wood element to be current. And check out how great the harvest table looks with the exotic/rusticated acacia floors! Just wish the table were twice as large. Next year.
At this wonderful time of year when family and friends gather to feast and to talk, I have a recommendation:
Don’t be boring. Please let no one tell me about their route or their aches and pains tomorrow. We only have the very most interesting crowd coming, so I’m sure it will be all string theory, existentialism, and politics, politics, politics. I love DC.
How not to be boring? Maybe try reading a book for crying out loud. I read this wonderfully rhapsodic article about how readers (especially fiction readers) are the most empathetic and lovable people with rich souls and wise, witty communication skills. Frankly, I came away from it feeling pretty darn good about myself for having burned through Gone Girl a couple weeks ago.
“They will write you letters and texts in verse. They are verbose, but not in the obnoxious way. They do not merely answer questions and give statements, but counter with deep thoughts and profound theories. They will enrapture you with their knowledge of words and ideas.”
Wow, I’ve always been a fiction and poetry reader. I sound awesome! I can’t wait to meet me.
Which reminds me, haha! As I was in Target today, a young woman came up behind me and said
YW: Excuse me, Miss?
Me: (Miss instead of Ma’am? Go on.) Yes?
YW: I just had to stop you because you’re so tall and pretty–
Me: (Another one? I’m just killin’ it lately. Wait. Why are all my admirers women?)
YW: And also, I wanted to ask you something. We’re doing this Bible study group, and I wanted to ask you, what do you know about Passover?
Me: (Et tu, Brute?! Tall and pretty? I bet you say that to all the girls, Missy.) I’m all set, thanks. Happy Thanksgiving!