It's after 10, and I've only just sat down after spending the whole day baking, cooking, and cleaning up, both here and at my mom's. I'm tired, I ate too much stuffing, and I haven't had any pie. I don't even want any pie, which is kind of silly when you consider how much time I spent wrestling with the ridiculously uncooperative pie crust this morning. Right now, the only thing that holds any appeal for me is the notion of taking some time sit on the couch and stare at the wall before going to bed.
Please don't take that as whining. We had a nice day and I'm properly thankful for all that is good in my life. I'm just plumb tuckered out, as the pilgrims used to say. No really, they did. Miles Standish was known for it. It was his signature signoff, kind of a pilgrim-era "peace out." He accompanied it with a complicated Puritan gang sign.
The phrase plumb tuckered reminds me of our dear friend Christine! I miss all her silliness.
Oh I feel you. I got the kitchen cleaned up but the floors all still need washing and so far this morning, I feel flattened.
And have tons of copy to write today.
Very belated happy Thanksgiving to you too!