Yes, its Thanksgiving in Canada. Well, technically tomorrow is, but I'm cooking today...I figure I get a day to rest and recover before Wolf goes back to work!
Thanksgiving is one of those weird times of year for me. I live across country from my parents, grandmother and sibs. Wolf's mother is in another province (I count it as a blessing) and his bsibs are scattered. Its rare that we have company.
Unfortunately, for turkey buying purposes, I'm still mentally stuck in the 'feeding the hordes' mentality that I grew up with my mother doing.
I was at butterball.ca last night. Needed to find out how long to cook the turkey today.
They also have this nifty thing where you put in the number of guests, and it tells you what size turkey to buy. So, curious to find out how I did, I put in the number I'll be feeding tomorrow. Hmmm. Says I need a waaaay smaller turkey than I bought. So, I kept going.
Turns out I have exactly enough turkey to feed FIFTEEN people. To the decimal. That would be, oh...TEN more people than will be eating here...more, considering three of them are under the age of 12! 
I had the giggles so bad that I had to explain why. My husband gave me the 'geez, you're weird' look, shook his head and walked away.
He just doesn't get me.
For the record, its his fault. He usually restrains my turkey purchasing issues, but this year let me loose with only Diva for protection. We grabbed the biggest turkey out of the freezer she could lift. *blushing*
So, from our home to yours, Happy Thanksgiving!
And if you're in the neighbourhood, stop by for some turkey. We have plenty.
Stay away from the pumpkin pies though...somehow there's never too much pie.
Princess kills me 
I had boiled eggs for egg salad yesterday. I made some for Wolf's lunch, and then was making some for mine (none of the kids like it...well, as far as I knew!) Princess has changed her mind...about boiled eggs, anyways.
I caught her on the couch with a boiled egg. She'd peeled just enough shell off to take a bite and loudly announced, "YUMM!" Apparently, she's had a change of heart about eggs.
For breakfast this am, she had the last boiled egg, and asked for another one, dragging the carton out of fridge. I explained that they weren't cooked, they were still raw, so she couldn't have them...and promised to make her some later.
Next thing I know, Princess is heading at me with a pot...with 2 eggs in it. One broken, one whole. "Egg NOW?"
I guess later had arrived
Now I'm hearing, "Egg ready yet?" every few mins.
She's gone from not being willing to touch them with a 10 ft pole, to being an egg addict!
I was thinking about how to describe RSD in a way that someone can visualize. Heres what I came up with:
There's a dragon living in my arm. Its scales are made up of broken jagged glass and razor blades. Sometimes, the dragon is quiet, only moving restlessly in its sleep, breathing its steam breath. Even just by being present, the scales dig and rip at me...the restless dreaming is the best I can ever hope for. Then there are the other times, when its active, twisting and turning, its tail wrapping around my wrist or shoulder or elbow, and then dragging its tail away. It breathes fire everywhere, and it feels like every where its scales and claws are, my arm is being torn, ripped. This is my 'normal'.
Then there are the really terrible times. The dragon is angry about being trapped in my arm and wants out. It writhes in fury, clawing, biting, ripping and tearing, while trying to set fire to burn its way out.
These sensations are so real that I look at my arm, expecting to see the jagged glass trying to push through my skin.
Thats the most visual way I can think of to describe what living with RSD is like.
At Chapters on the weekend. My gf K and I were out, getting books for Diva, and I had $100 worth of gift cards (God bless Airmiles!) to spend.
I think I'm permanently scarred. My psyche will not recover quickly. Their 'classics' section was a whopping 2 bookshelves. And most of the books were REPEATS. Anne of Green Gables was there in 3 or 4 forms. The top shelf was all dvds.
I cannot tell you how many shelves were dedicated to vampire/supernatural/romance aimed at teens, however. I closed my eyes and hurried past
WTH is going on in our society?? Don't get me wrong, I'm all for kids reading, and one of my brothers was gifted comic books simply to get him to read ANYTHING at all.
Why do preteens/teens need to be reading about sex? Why are so many books aimed at preteen girls about boyfriends? Isn't it teaching preteens/teens that the world revolves around having a guy in their life? How about something that is about a young woman achieving something, other than hooking the guy she has a crush on?
Ack!!
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