Canoe Canoe? I can. It's Canoe Time! Somewhat unpredictably, yet not, because I always try and get what I want, I managed to convince Mr. Pink to come to my parent's house on the weekend for Thanksgiving dinner. A little reprieve from the rough couple of weeks he'd been having out at the settlement (seven deaths in the span of three weeks), and a much needed lovefest was had. As soon as he got there though, we ran off to the beach for some privacy and upon spying the canoe he declared that this is how we would pass the time until dinner. He hadn't canoed since he was nine, and I hadn't since, well, since Tall I realized (silently), and we both got paddles and lifejackets, and headed out into the setting sun. The lake was like glass, and we glided along quietly into the shining water, (upon his insistance, we steered towards the sun). It was beautiful. The fall air was crisp, the sky was brilliant blue with low clouds on the horizon, and we were the only ones on the lake as we threw the paddles behind us into the boat and set ourselves adrift, talking and catching up, sneaking kisses carefully, wary of tipping the boat into the frigid water. It was with great reluctance that we headed back to shore when someone yelled that supper was almost ready (yes, the lake is not nearly large enough).

Dinner was great except my brother's girlfriend is perhaps not the turkey whiz that she thinks she is...I felt bad for her, though she'll never be the wiser, when my father threw out a lot of the leftover turkey because it wasn't cooked enough. To her credit, the turkey that was cooked was delicious. Take note: Squeeze two oranges into the inside, and leave one in there, and ten minutes before taking out the bird, brush jelly (like, crab apple jelly, or any jelly) on the outside and broil it). Genius. It was the most tender bird I've ever had.

My brother brought up "the Nephew" also, which was cool, as I enjoy taking dognoxious for walks, even though he pulls too much and is terrified of the horses in the paddock at the end of the street. Also, my brother brought his Le Baron, which is a beast, but a coolly vintage chrysler if there ever was one. It needed new seat covers, and somehow he conned the whole family into helping him redo the whole interior in one day on friday afternoon, and it ended up looking fantastic. All he needs to do is fix up the exterior now, and pray for a fuel efficient engine to fall out of the sky and into the jaws of the vehicle.

That night, the rest of the crew (grandparents, brother/gf, parents) pleaded exhaustion and went to bed early while Mr. Pink and I watched Bubba HoTep, my father claiming that he was too liquored up to drive Mr. Pink home, much to our elation, akin to that of eleventh graders left in a closet too long. Btw, Bubba HoTep is a fantastic movie, I reccommend it to anyone that knows the greatness of Bruce Campbell from the Evil Dead Trilogy. AWESOME.

But of course, all movies come to an end, and of course, all detailed descriptions do too, especially ones describing the lack of sleep that ensued.

We went canoeing the next day as well, this time to the otherside of the lake, and hung out there for a while before we had to head back. Here's where I say I was a little bit of a brat, because I hate having my picture taken, and I was wearing my godawful Cult tee-shirt, so I protested greatly, though to no avail. I hate it when they ambush me with suprise family photo time- I wasn't ready for it but everyone else was, so we return to the childhood trend where I am the oddest of the photo again. And I felt terrible about it- making it an issue, but also for not being ready for it. But, I made them promise that we'd try it again some other time.

There are more things (Tons of thingS) that I still want to talk about. Settlement, The Black Rider, nanowrimo, differences of lifestyle (big). But this dell hell is uncomfortable to write on. And plus I keep farting, and I never know if I have to say excuse me if there is no one in the immediate vincinity, but maybe someone like eight feet away. It's tricky.

  ¶ 4:07 PM