Monday, April 23, 2012

In Honor of Carnage Young

My friend, Carnage is a day older today.  He is easily amused and likes to read my blogs. As my followers know, I am writing a book, so I haven't posted any blogs lately. 

Since I have been staying in Florida for the past few months. I've had plenty of time to engage in one of
my favorite pastimes. People Watching!  I have also learned a few things that heretofore I was grossly unaware.  People love to talk about their grandchildren, pets and tattoos, not necessary in that order.
People are really funny about their tattoos. (not funny ha-ha, just funny odd).  Several years ago, I worked with a great man, who was in the 101st Airborne, went through jump training in Toccoa, (just like the mini-series 'Band of Brothers').  Everyone had to have their serial number tattooed on their arm. (the idea behind this was if they were shot out of the air and if bodies were laying all around, if the Army found the arm, with the serial number, the presumption would be that the ass had been blown away, and therefore, could notify the deceased family).  Jim said no precautions were taken, and the man who did his tattoo had an unfiltered Camel cigarette dangling from his mouth that was steadily dropping ashes on Jim's 19 year old flesh. Jim said he became airborne because the job paid $100 more monthly. He said that was like an additional $5,000 today. Jim went all the through war, served almost 4 1/2 years, and unlike most of his company, was able to come home to Alabama tattooed by unharmed.  Jim wanted to surprise his Mother and Dad. When he arrived back in the States, he booked a bus ticket and rode the Greyhound for the better part of 4 days to get home. He got off the bus, walked across the street to the gas station, saw an old friend, and caught a ride to his house. His mother, whom was called 'Baby' by everyone, including Jim, was entertaining her bridge club. Jim walked in the back door, the maid suggested Jim surprise Baby, so Jim walked into the living room, stood behind Baby's chair, everyone in the room saw Jim before Baby did. She turned around, saw Jim, looked him dead in the eye, and 'got the vapors' as middle age and older women in Alabama was prawn to do at that time, and fainted. When she came to, the first thing she did was apologize to the bridge club for Jim coming in 'all tattooed'. Jim said he explained the reasoning behind the tattoo, and Baby said well maybe they could take him to a Doctor up in Birmingham and have it erased.

 We all know the popularity of tattoos now, I spend alot of my time looking at them and asking people about their tattoos. Let me mention again, everyone wants to talk about their grandchildren, pets and  tattoos. I met a woman at a yard sale that had a clown holding balloons on her leg. Each balloon had the name and birth date of her grandchildren. From the looks of the tattoo, she must have had about 15 grand kids. I met another woman who had a small Scottie dog tattoo on her ankle, with the dog's name tattooed above the dog. Since I'm in an area where the population is 95% retired people, I find myself wondering does a coupon for 1/2 off on a tattoo come with their first social security check or with their first retirement check?

I often wonder about all of the young lovers who have each other's name tattoo-ed on their bodies. What happens if they break up, do they just have the names X-ed out, or a bigger tattoo put over it?
We met a nice man down at Disney World, who went through chemotherapy for cancer. When he had gone 5 years, cancer free, he decided to get a tattoo of the cancer ribbon about 6" in length on his leg. He had a reaction to the dye, picked up a staph infection, spent about a week in the hospital on high powered antibiotics and damn near lost his leg.

I met a young woman (about 20) who had an entire deck of cards tattoo-ed across her back. She told me she had almost $1,000 in the 'art work'. The down side to this story, she had really bad teeth. Wouldn't that money have been better spend on her teeth? Push come to shove, and somehow, it always does, you can always buy a deck of cards.

My favorite tattoo story comes from one of my new young friends I have met recently. She has a muffin, with the words 'Rusty Muffin' tattooed above her 'muffin'. I asked her, as she ages, will she go back and have 'rusted muffin' or possibly 'rusted out muffin' tattoo-ed? She is quite a sport and replied that she just wanted it known that the carpet and drapes matched. I guess everyone has figured out now that she has flaming red hair. 

I don't to appear to be judgemental. I find humor in just about everything. I also have a tattoo, I had my eyeliner tattooed on. It didn't hurt, I went to sleep while it was being done. My daughter went with me, she said I started to snore and she was very embarrassed. I get that alot of from children.

Happy Birthday Carnage, you are a great friend, from a wonderful family.

Stay tuned!

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Catching up with the Past

I have spent a far amount of time lately, connecting with friends from high school, on Facebook.  It has been fun to get in touch with girls, most of whom, the last time I saw, were in their teens, women who are now 6 years away from drawing social security benefits.  Naturally, I want to look at recent photos of them, to see who has become more 'voluptous' or 'zaftig' like me. I had a conversation with my nephew, Carson, before I left Florida and came home last week. I had to explain the difference in raw bony, (like his Mama), and voluptuous, (like me, soft, and cuddly). While I'm very pleased on the days that I can get in a pair of size 12 jeans, I'm just as happy on the days that I wear cut off bottoms to sweat pants and a tshirt, and lay around the house all day, like today.

 Angie started reeling off a list of things she wanted me to do today. I acted like I was asleep when she left this morning. Does the outside storage room need to be cleaned out more today, then it did, 3 months ago, when I went to Florida, when the weather was much cooler? Do I really give a damn about what is in there, in the first place?  I had a friend who lived in Savannah, she made a statement that has become my testimony in past months. Heather famously remarked "she didn't want any more shit than she could have loaded up in her car and be on the road in 30 minutes time".  I had the opportunity to be at a cocktail party on Turner's Rock 8 years ago, with Heather, and her on again/off again lover of the past
35 years.  Louie looked at on the crowd of women and said to Heather " I bet I have made love to 75% of the women here" Heather quickly replied " Yeah, but I bet it was only once". She was quick, clever, and well traveled. Heather suffered a massive stroke, and spent the last few months of her life in a nursing home. I  like to think she had no control of her mind. How said it would have been to have a brilliant mind, trapped in a dying body.

I've been giving away things for years. Angie is always scolding me about giving away things that she wants. Angie owns a house twice the size of mine, my thoughts are, if she wants them, all she she to do is take them. Same thing goes for my son, my nieces, nephews, cousins, etc.  I did pack up almost 100 books today to take to the Good Will. If I really love a book, I will re-read it over and over. I collect books from Southern authors, some whom I have had the good fortune to become friends, such as Rosemary Daniell, Lauretta Hannon, Hollis Gillespie, and others of reputable note. Others are by legends like Faulkner, Truman Capote, Tennessee Williams, Eudora Welty, Ferrol Sams, and other literary giants. I also collect cook books, I must have close to 400 by now. I love reading them. I haven't cooked in quite awhile, as a matter of fact, Angie told me last night our oven has been on the blink since Christmas. (another thing she has put on the list, call Wesley at Town's and see when he came come out and fit it).

While visiting St Simons a few years ago, my friend Karen and I stopped at an Estate Sale. A lovely woman who was clearly in her 70's was selling beautiful silver serving pieces, incredible table linens, including hand tatted cocktail napkins (you don't see those everyday). I asked about the cocktails napkins, and was told the seller's unmarried old aunts had handmade them for her when she was a young bride." Why would you get rid of an heirloom like this" I asked. "My two children are  boys, both are married to complete bitches, I have four of the most ungrateful grandchildren ever to be conceived, and to speak frankly, (like she wasn't already), I would rather wipe my dog's ass with them, then to see them go to any of my family".  I bought the cocktail napkins, not because I thought I would get much use out of them, but because I loved the story that came with them.  I also bought great sterling derby cups, and a few silver trays. The derby cups and the silver trays are still in the bag I brought them home in, unpolished and in the storage room. A great story didn't accompany them.  I'll get around to polishing them, it's just not on the top, middle or near the bottom of my list. 

I didn't inherit any items from my grandparents. All were hardworking people, who dearly loved their families, but had few worldly things to leave.  I was in an antique shop in Waynesboro, Georgia about 10 years ago, and bought a beautiful set of English china from the 1920's. The reason I bought it was due to the way it was marketed, a huge sign read "My Grandmother's wedding china".  It's  now in my condo in Atlanta. I have never used it, but, I do have two plates hanging on the wall, when asked about it, I have the stock reply "it was my Grandmother's wedding china". Now, you know the rest of the story, kinda like Paul Harvey.

Stay tuned tomorrow, same time, same station.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

The Hooker at Breakfast

Since I have been staying down in Florida, I have had plenty of opportunities to engage in one of my favorite pastimes.  People Watching.   Put me in a crowded restaurant or mall and I'll be completely happy for hours.  I've always heard simple minds are easily occupied. 

My baby brother, Dan and I were having breakfast this week. About the time the hostess showed us to our seats, in comes a couple that looked totally out of place for a breakfast joint, prior to 8:00 am. (Dan had on work- out clothes, and I had on what I had slept in, a pair of capri stretch pants, a t-shirt with built in bra, a cap, and sunglasses. I'm still working that 'out of town and don't know many people' angle). The woman wore high stiletto heels, that could have used some polishing, a mini skirt from the 70's, which was about 6" below where I guessed her pubic hair would have stopped, as we age, everything drops and gets lower, a low cut shirt, showing way too much cleavage for morning time, (all of you girls remember the line from 'Gone With The Wind' about showing bosoms before lunch), Tammy Faye Bakker eye make-up from the night before, a fresh coat of pink gloss lipstick. I have one 'cast in stone' rule about lipstick, if it ain't red; you have wasted your money. Her hair was over processed and of an indescribable color. I can be quickly criticized for not dressing my age, her outfit made my closet look like that of a Victorian widow. Her entire demeanor screamed 'Hire me by the hour'. One thing about hookers, unless they're between mid teens to about 23, they all look the same (I watch a lot of late night TV). This old girl was a rough 60, if she was a day.

In the genre' of prostitution, I would call her  the 'Flea Market' variety, with Dollar Store, Wal-mart, Belk’s, Macy's, Saks, Neiman Marcus, etc being the advancing standard.  Dan and I, along with everyone else in our section, started staring at this couple.  Her companion was hanging onto every word she said, she was using graphic hand motions, waving her hands slightly above her head. You get the picture. 

Since it was the day after the space shuttle had been launched, Dan speculated that she was explaining all the necessary thrust needed to get the rocket off the pad and up in the air. "Who are you kidding" I said. "The only thing she has had in the air lately has been her ankles, and I'll wager the only kind of thrust she knows about is pelvic thrust".

All of a sudden, Dan get's all pious and says "for all we know, they have been married 40 years".  "Married people don't have that much to talk about" I said.
 "You're right" he said and quickly overcame his bout of pious.

It was like watching a car wreck, totally addictive. 

When the mystery couple got up and started to leave, she smiled and said "Good Morning" to all of us who had been staring at them, we were up to about 15 by then.

The very fact that she acknowledged us at all bears witness to what my brother, Ted, has always said. “I’ve never known an old whore that wasn't just as friendly as she could be".  Who am I to dispute, which I am reasonably sure is a well documented fact. It makes perfect sense, how are you going to sell anything without a positive outlook and a fine appreciation for your product, be it apples or ass. It's always a 'buyer's market' somewhere.

She was obviously smarter than most of us, in a cash- only business, where the customer always leaves happy. Nobody can bring back the product and try to return it.  I would assume it was a form of 'ménage' de trios' sex. The guy and the Federal government both get screwed. I'm be willing to bet no tax return is filed, and if she did, would she use a sliding scale to 'decrease the value' of her assets?  Since there is no paper trail, is her 'carbon footprint' less than ours?  If it's smarter to sit down than stand up, and lay down instead of sitting down, who is the dumbass now? No one I know has a job where you can lie down at work. Jethro Bodine was the only person I knew who has ever had a job as a mattress tester. 

I don't want to appear judgemental. I have friends from all walks of life.  Bartenders, bank presidents, doctors, lawyers, short order cooks, professional athletes, hair stylist, designers, drag queens, Senators, psychics, housekeepers, realtors, Congressmen, car salesmen, plumbers, painters, published authors, movie stars (jack walker) notary publics, retirees, waitresses, mechanics, ex-governors, and a few ex-cons, businessmen and bull shirt artist.  I love them every one. To my knowledge, I don't have any friends that apply the world's oldest profession, but I do have several who are self-proclaimed sluts. One of them is quick to say 'you have to decide if you're doing it for them, or doing it to 'em'.  Food for the thought.

Stay tuned, same time, same station.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Dan's Second Brain Surgery

I'm going to Florida next week. It's time for my baby brother Dan yearly surgery.  He likes me to go with him to his Doctor appointments and his many hospital stays because I asked the Doctors important questions like "do y'all serve cocktails here" or "did y'all give Dan a vasectomy while he was out?" and other    appertaint things to get Dan's mind off his latest medical procedure.  Last time he had surgery at Mayo, the room we were in had movies you could order, right there in the room, and also, excellent room service, and better than average food, but no cocktail service.

Once when Dan was in the hospital in Dublin, for goiter surgery, Steve Graham, our cousin was in the room with me when they brought Dan back from surgery. The nurses said that Dan had awful stomach gas, (we have discussed Dan's eating habits previously, so all of you who have read my blogs know of Dan's digestive problems).  Steve asked the nurses if they could just put Dan outside until his gas passed.  They thought it was a good idea, but said it was against hospital policy.  Dan had goiter surgery, and had a huge bandage on his neck. Steve and I quickly decided it would be best to down play the size of the bandage, so when Dan woke up and wanted to know how it looked, we both told him it was a very small incision. Our plan worked well until our brother, Tim, came in and asked Dan why had they cut his head half way off. 

Grahams like to have the following items with them at all times, flashlights, weapons, and drop cords.  Before they took Dan to surgery, I was going through his bag and found a 50' drop cord, personally, I had a 12' in my car, and when Steve showed up, he had  an industrial drop cord that looked like it was capable of running directly to Vogtle in Waynesboro, GA. Steve also had a generator on the back of his truck. Dan like knowing, before he goes into any surgery, that we have a back up plan, in case of a major power failure. 

I'm going to be with my family in Florida for about 6 weeks.  I am really looking forward to it, while Dan might be getting cut on, the trip is like a mini-vacation for me. I'll get to spend time with my two brothers and their families, and my first born. 

My niece, Mandi, came over last week, and brought my great nephews, Hunter, age 6 and Hayden age 3.  Hunter whispered to me that Hayden had said the 'F-word'.  'You don't mean it'  I said.  Hunter leaned over and whispered in my ear, 'Hayden said f-a-r-t.  Mama said he's supposed to say 'toot'. 

Stay tuned, same time, same station.


Friday, January 28, 2011

A 'Hare-rising' Experience

My daughter, Angie, who we  affectionately call 'Cupcake' wanted a small dog for Christmas. She  has 2 weimaraners. Rocket, the older of the two, we inherited from my son, Eric. Rocket has always been scared to death of bad weather,  had lived in the middle of Florida for 5 years, and  3 bad hurricanes just about did the ole' boy in. Rocket's life did not get off to a good start. When he was about 15 months old, he was ran over in our yard. This brought on the first of Rocket's  many surgeries, a $1200 hip.  About the time he recovered from the hip surgery, Rocket was in the front yard, around the pond. He was bitten by a water moccasin, causing his head to swell up to the size of a watermelon. After much anti-snake venom, and 2 weeks in Vet ICU, he was able to come home. Rocket is an old dog now, all he wants to do is eat on a very regular basis, sleep on his bed, and go outside on a short term basis (come to think of it, that's about all I want to do too). Considering all the past injuries (I just mentioned a few on a long list), the advanced arthritis, being blind, generally being old,  88 in dog years, Cupcake decided it was time to add to our canine family.  Since we have two weimaraners the size of  a Shetland pony, she thought a very small dog would be the best choice. She opted for a Shih Tzu, I think mostly because she liked that line in the Tim McGraw song that referred to a Shih Tzu hound.  Since I'm still not burdened by constant, of for that matter, any employment, I took it as a personal task to stay on Craig's List, and other sites, until I found the perfect puppy for her. I found a 7 week old brown male pup, the only white on him is his two front paws. Cupcake promptly feel in love with him, and he her. For those of you who are visual like I am, the size of the new pup is smaller than the piles the other two dogs deposit on the edge of the yard, get the picture?  Angie got busy about the business of 'potty-training' Jackson, and therein starts are story.  Jackson weighs 1lb, and will eventually gain up to 4 or 5 lbs, upon maturity.  Jackson was out in the yard, right by himself,  Tim (Angie's permanent finance' of the past 12 years, and  boyfriend of the past 17 years) went outside to check on Jackson. About the time Tim opened the door, two huge owls swooped down and attempted to invite Jackson to be 'meal time on the power line'. Tim shoo-ed the owls off, and now, when Jackson goes outside, Tim has to stand out there, with his gun, so he can kill anything that tries to snatch up Angie's puppy. 

Having pets taken by flying prey is not a new thing in my family. When my nephew, Jon, my brother Jim's son, was about 5, his mother bought him a rabbit around Easter time.  Jim said the rabbit had fleas, and powdered the rabbit up real good, with the same flea powder he put on his bird dogs. Come to find out, in the worst possible way, this stuff was too strong for rabbits. Jim put the rabbit under the carport, and sprinkled him down good, at which point, the rabbit, 'Hops-a-lot' took to having severe convulsions and died, deader than hell, right out there under the carport.  Jim's ex wife, and Jon's mother, Maribeth was fanatical about animals, so Jim jumped into plan 'b' which was to throw Jon in the truck, throw the dead rabbit in the back of the truck and into the first deep ditch, on the way to Dublin to get another rabbit.  This plan worked well.  Jim and Jon was home with the 2nd 'Hops-a-lot', ( Maribeth was unaware of the hare-swap). Jim, Jon and Maribeth was outside, watching the rabbit hop around on the ground, at which time, a hawk swooped down, picked up the new rabbit,  who had been in the Graham family for about 2 hours at  this point, and flew off. Maribeth started crying, and Jim announced they were out of the damn rabbit business. For the next 20 years, Grahams did not have rabbits, then Ted decided that he would get a few rabbits, Flemish Giants, they weighed about 30 pounds, and it would have taken a strong hawk to fly off with one of those bad boys. Ted had the family carpenters, Herman and Nathan, build a big rabbit pen.  Ted bought about 10 of these huge rabbits, and put his breeders together. Well, we all know the story about how quickly rabbits produce, but not for Ted,  after several months, and no little rabbits, Pa Pa, Ted's father-in-law, (and we use the word 'law'  loosely where Pa Pa is concerned) went to check out the rabbits and noticed that Ted had put two females in one pen and two males in one pen, hence Ted having no luck in his big rabbit operation. Since it was duly noted that Jim had bad luck in the rabbit business, we decided it must be a family trait, and started battering and frying the rabbits, which I can report, fried up quite well, and was very tasty.

Friday, November 26, 2010

My Son

We had a wonderful Thanksgiving yesterday. Angie, my oldest brother, Jim, his friend, Angela and I were guest of  Paul and Ann Graham, our aunt and uncle. Aunt Ann is our mother, Sarah McCord Graham, sister, and Uncle Paul is our Daddy's first cousin, therefore, making them our aunt and uncle on our mother's side, and our 2nd cousins on our Daddy's side. This  makes their children, our cousins, our  1st cousins on our Mother's side, and our 3rd cousins on our Daddy's side. Confused yet?  We had tons of food, great fellowship and made  memories.  I am blessed to be a part of such a wonderful family.

My son, Eric, spent the night with me last night. I had Eric when I was 17. We've kinda grown up together, with Eric being the more mature of the duo for many years now. I like it that way. I'm fond of telling him I marred a Playboy quality body giving birth to him. (as we age, we can all remember ourselves any way we chose, right?)  Eric moved to Florida in 2001, when my brothers, Jim, Ted and Dan relocated because Daddy's business was expanding to the middle part of Florida.  I remember very well the day we brought Eric home from the hospital when he was born.  In those days,  they circumcised little boys about 30 minutes before they dismissed them from the hospital.  Dean, our Mother who raised us, told me to put alcohol on his navel and Vaseline around his freshly circumcised penis.  My little brothers, Ted, who was 8 and Dan who was 5, at the time, was watching, when I went to change his diaper.   I remember just like it was yesterday, asking Ted  what Dean had said. Ted replied 'she said to put that Vaseline on his navel and alcohol on his pecker', which was completely opposite from what Dean had said.  I carefully put the cotton ball on top of the alcohol bottle, got it good and soaked,  stuck it directly on Eric's penis. Eric started crying and lost his breath and was turning blue. Ted, Dan and I started screaming and hollering. Daddy came running down the hall, picked Eric up, blew in his face, Eric caught his breath and finally calmed down. Daddy told me not to touch the baby another damn time, or Eric  wouldn't live a week. As Eric became older, and we told the story about the alcohol, Eric would say not to worry about it, because it acted like fertilizer.  Eric called me 'Claudia' until I got married to my second husband. I didn't have a problem with being called Claudia. He and I got in a big discussion when he was about 4. He thought I was his sister. I kept telling him that I was Jim, Tim, Jeff, Ted and Dan's sister, but I was his mama. Eric said 'No, Mama is our mama, and you are our sister'. I finally got him straight on it.   When Eric was in college, he had to have many surgeries on his foot and ankle (due to a local doctor's incompetence and just sorry doctoring).  Two of my friends came up to visit Eric when he was having surgery, one of them said a man in the elevator had stopped her and asked if she was Demi Moore. Eric had back in the room about 1 hr, and was still groggy from surgery, he said 'undoubtedly the man had said Skinny Whore, and you didn't hear correctly'.
Karen J.  said that a Graham, fresh off the operating table, is funnier than most folks when they are fully awake.

Eric and Angie would never address me, without saying 'yes mam' or 'no mam'. They have wonderful manners and have turned out to be outstanding adults. I always thought the most important thing I would every do was raise those children, and I took it very seriously.  We always had fun, and laughed daily.
When Angie got 'wittiest' in her senior class, Eric said  Angie must be going to school repeating things she heard Eric and I say.

Angie got busy putting up Christmas decorations today. We always get a live tree. We like the way it makes the house smell, and Angie enjoys gripping and complaining about having to water the tree daily, and vacuum up the needles. The Christmas lights just about drive her to drink every year, so I try to have two good bottles of red Zinfandel ready to go. I can highly recommend the Rabbit Ridge Merlot, if you order it in a good restaurant, it's about $50 a bottle, I found a few bottles last week at the Kroger for $9, which is one helluva deal.  We prefer red wines over white wines. I have traveled extensively in the past 15 years, and have developed a fine appreciation for the grape.  While in South Africa in 2008, on a Safari that Greg Roche gave me as a birthday gift, I had the opportunity to zip line for over 2 miles, through the top of the jungle. Luckily, we visited a winery first, and I was able to 'wine up' prior to zip lining. It was a tremendous experience, and I think I might not have enjoyed it, had I not self medicated on grapes prior.
I learned in Spain, the hybrid of the grape has more to do with the taste, then the vintage of the wine. I also learned that price has nothing to do with wine, if your taste leans more to ripple than a fine Bordeaux, no problem, and a screw top is not necessarily better than a  corked wine. I found out on my own that wine in a box is crap.

See tuned tomorrow, same time, same station.


Wednesday, November 24, 2010

So Many Reasons To Be Thankful

I spent the night with my brother Dan, Suzy and Carson last night. We left Rockledge at 5:30 am this morning, to take Carson to have a test at Scottish Rite in Atlanta at 8.30 this morning. Carson was pronounced in excellent shape. The subject of my blog came up, and Dan mentioned that I had not told anything bad on myself.

          "What are you talking about?" I asked.
          "Well, for starters, how about when you got drunk on that family cruise and got  locked outside your
           room naked?" Dan said.
          "Gosh, Dan, you sound like you have never been locked outside naked"
          " I haven't" Dan replied
          "Well, now you have something to look forward to you, don't you? Besides, that was over 3 years
            ago, and I didn't think it was that big of a deal." I said.
          "That cabin boy saw you, and so did Ted".
          "I'm not concerned about Ted seeing me naked, and it's not like I'm going to run into that cabin boy
           at the Piggly Wiggly. I also vaguely remember being covered up with a towel."
          "It was small towel, not a full size one" He said.
          "It's not my fault that I was woefully over served, and I told you at the time to go whip that bartender's
           ass and defend my honor"

I suppose I should be thankful that Dan did come up, and find me locked outside in the hall, wrapped up in a very small towel. If that had happened at the Walmart in Dublin, I might have gotten a little out of whack. My theory is, if you are going to be over served by a bartender, and possibly, find yourself locked out of your room naked, the best case scenario is to be out of town, among family and complete strangers. I didn't see the big deal then, and I certainly don't see it now.  However, if it will make my baby brother feel better for me to tell this, so be it.

I think we had 26 family members with us.  The next morning at breakfast, the entire group knew of my
little episode.  Naturally, Dan was the first one down, so he could tell the rest of the family. Telephone, Telegraph or Tell a Graham................We just cannot help it..

  Best Wishes for a Wonderful Thanksgiving. Family and Friends make our lives fuller.