At the last minute, my wife and I decided to shuttle across town and enjoy a Thanksgiving dinner with her Mom. As always, she kicks ass in the kitchen, and many bellies were stretched to their breaking point.
Back at home, we enjoyed a quiet, relaxing evening. A great day.
Good weekend.
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It was a productive weekend. What on earth do I mean by that? I mean, I use
that word: “productive”–it sounds like I worked. But I didn’t. It was a
“good” ...
18 hours ago
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