Thoughts had while contemplating the situation of the British teacher in Sudan, not all of them fair:
- Why aren't people freaking out about this?
- This is happening in Sudan? Figures.
- Really? Muslims taking offense where none is meant? Wow. That never happens.*
- Huh. I guess it's not just in America where people abdicate their parental responsibility, expect you to teach their children for little or no pay, and then get all up in your face about the myriad ways you suck at your job.
- Serves her right for trying to teach those poor children that their vote can effect change.
- That Muhammed must be some smooth talker to convince so many people that God--any God--would want them to abuse and murder people.*
Okay. Thanksgiving report. The turkey was outstanding, because my Grandma knows from good cooking. It was moist and juicy and perfectly done (grr, raw turkey last year), and there were two of them, which is even better.
Pardon me while I go kill the spider who has broken The Pact and is brazenly walking around on the printer.
And we're back. The Pact is our agreement that I won't kill the spiders if they live outside or stay out of our way. You can't have critters climbing all over stuff.
The vegetable contingency was woefully underrepresented at our meal. There were a bunch of "salads" which were basically desserts, and my candied sweet potatoes, which, see above re: desserts. I ate some pumpkin pie filling without whipped cream, forgetting until I was halfway through that there is dairy in the filling itself, so . . . sorry, Willa. Thanksgiving afternoon we tied a quilt for my cousin who just got engaged.
We stayed Thanksgiving night with cattle ranching grandma, who is getting her bathroom redone and new carpet. We slept like babies and were almost on time the next morning to go tree fetching. Luckily my sister's young man was even later than us, so he took the heat off a little. Thanks, Jordan! We trekked out into the mountains and after very little searching or fanfare we cut our specimen, which was prettier than last year's tree. I got a lot of ribbing for that one. I like a Charlie Brown tree, because then the ornaments can hang. I hate those ones that you just kind of smoosh the ornaments into the rat's nest of branches. We all went back to my grandma's for chili and leftovers, then hit the shoe department at Al's, and I got some awesome skater shoes. I figure they're cute and comfortable, and I have a surly attitude toward The Man, so I'm cleared to wear them.
The buck isn't doing his job. No one has been bred so far. Lazy poo. What are we supposed to eat and drink next year?
*I know, I know, the opinions expressed in Sudan and by the fundamentalists/extremists or whatever are not necessarily shared by the management of Islam, but like any religion, it's the creeps that get all the press.