We're all full. Post-dinners, some of us gathered here and ate pie to stuff it down. I couldn't eat after dinner, seems to be an aging thing. There's just so much I can eat anymore. Once the hunger's done (which is alarmingly like after 15 bites now) I can put copious amounts of liquid in, but the chewing is over. It gets to dessert and I just can't. Which is fine because the best breakfast in the world is pie.
It was a dramaless holiday, just a bit of bitching to spice things up. Very nice. The best thing is seeing the same old faces, and for the most part they were seen. Long as we have those touchstones everything's all right.
I'm getting silly and have drunk a good portion of whiskey so I'm going to put my feet up and relax and start dreaming of a white Christmas. Why not? We got a white Thanksgiving...
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