Wow- between getting ready for Darkover and Thanksgiving too, I just didn’t get to writing yesterday, so I’m going to do a quick run-through of last week this morning- whilst and at the same time sewing new skirts, making Thanksgiving Dinner, washing the kitchen floor, doing laundry, packing my clothes and (supervising Johnathan packing) the van. This is somewhat made more complicated by having gotten in a new sock order Wednesday. Kat’s been rolling them a dozen at a time. (Most of the people who sell the long striped socks just throw them in a chest or bin, we pair them, roll them neatly and tie a ribbon around them. We then put out a display of all the varieties we have, so people can see easily rather than having to dig. Funny how I felt that that was a good idea, when I used to think people would enjoy stirring through the pile of silver to look for rings. Live and learn I guess.)
I went up to Dad’s Sunday. It was his 85th birthday. As he wears a hearing aid now, there was an effort made to keep it down to just his closest family and friends so that the crowd wouldn’t be so large that he had to turn it down and be effectively deaf again. He and his local friends have a tradition of having Sunday brunch together after Church, so the party was scheduled for from the end of brunch to the beginning of the foot ball game. I had thought that this meant 12-2, but was mistaken. Had I known football, I’d have known that the game started at 4. But it was a lucky mistake for me.
I arrived at about noon, and got to talk to Dad before the party. Liz had also pointed out that he has enough STUFF, and presents should be restricted to food. I had fun trying to remember what he likes, and was pleased that he pronounced my selection to be all things he wouldn’t have bought himself, but he likes. I got him pistachios, and smoked cheese, pickled mozzerella, and sardines, and dried figs, and fancy jam and all sorts of weird stuff. I’d made him some pickled eggs, but I forgot them. I’m worried that a lot of it may be things he doesn’t get himself because they aren’t good for him. But heck, he’s 85, and can probably survive a little treat every now and then.
I also made him a mini-german sweet chocolate cake. He’s always had a german sweet chocolate cake for his birthday- we have a long series of pictures of him blowing his candles out with his cheeks puffed out (getting gradually grayer and stouter, but otherwise identical. Trish had gotten a commercial cake with pictures of him on it.
They have a way of printing your photos in food coloring on rice paper, and put that on top of the cake, and there was a picture of him as a farm boy (what a hunk!) and one of him at a wedding. It’s very weird to think about having a slice of cake with your father’s picture on it. Anyway, Steve had come up on Saturday, and I made the chocolate cake and put just a dollop of batter in kid sized pans, and made a tiny version which I took up for him, and Steve was willing to take most of the main cake home, so he had that. I also took up some of the crocus bulbs from my bag, so we can compare notes in the spring and see how much later his come up than mine.
Even with the restricted guest list, it was still pretty darned crowded and loud, and I left at 3, rather than the two I’d intended, and it was well past dark by the time I got home. On the trip up and down I listened to various CDs: The Vikings, Comparative Religion, and of course, my Japanese (and music when I got really tired).
I’m going to tell you what I watched and have been reading next week- mostly I’ve been looking at palmistry books, trying to figure out what I can do to make money. It’s such a pain. The big problem is that they tell you your aptitudes, which I already pretty much know. What I need is something that tells me how to turn those aptitudes into income. Feh.