So today we sat down and wrote up our dinner menu for Thursday and the grocery shopping list that goes along with it.

And let's not forget the Thanksgiving Sunday service, our annual bread communion. The bakers in the community (I specialize in 10-grain bread) bake bread and serve it as part of the service. It's in the spirit of communal breaking of bread. Some wag last year held up his water bottle and suggested the minister turn it into wine. Yes, we're a subdued and submissive group, doncha know.

So I have to plan my portion of T-day's dinner, remember to get up early Sunday to bake my bread.

Oh, yeah, the store opens 5 a.m. on Friday to sell pointsettias at $1 per plant, so we'll go for Starbuck's (it opens 4:30) and then head over to pick up a couple dozen plants for our fundraiser Sunday in December.

Then Friday afternoon I'm going to the VA, pick up N, and we're going to an Irish pub for dinner (his choice). He's always promoting anything Irish as the apex of food, fun, and civilization. I forbear to point out examples to the contrary. Let him fantasize to his heart's content. We Welsh know better.

It's going to be a busy few days. I can hardly wait for November 26th, a Monday, when sanity returns (and Mercury goes direct).

Speaking of Mercury, I'm reading a book Mercury Falls. If you like satire, highly recommended.