EE: That's just a sound they make, not how they communicate

It's Thanksgiving Monday afternoon, Mel's napping, Hank is kind of meandering around, I've done some writing, so let's talk.

I was kind of dreading this weekend. Any weekend with more than one obligation is worth biting your fingernails over. Ones that push forward into the morning get me even more frazzled. You could even say it began with a hastily-arranged dinner with mom on Friday night when we went to Uptown Social House, a bar near her house that has dueling pianos a few nights per week -- we didn't end up seeing it because being that the music starts at 9 there was no chance we would be staying that long; we got there at 6:30.

The food was actually quite good. Mom filled the silence with tales of her work woes and her relationship troubles or lack thereof. I love my mom but I'm finding more and more as an adult what it means that a conversation with her is a little one-sided. Not that we had much to report, but Mel was worried about what we'd have to say and I told her not to worry over it.

Saturday was the day I was particularly worried about. Our task for the day was to drive to Namita's in our old neighborhood (Spadina-Ft. York) and pick up the much-anticipated Olympic bar Mel had bought from her. Mel had always wanted one and I kind of put her off -- expense, space, etc, but when it came out that Nam was selling hers we couldn't very well pass up the opportunity. So we drove out, it was a perfectly pleasant day for a drive to the city, the highway wasn't even that bad, it was just finding our way to Namita's visitor parking, which I got turned around when I thought it was left but it was right. Well anyway. We got the thing and loaded it into the truck and Mel and Namita caught up a bit on what was going on with her and people they knew and the optometrist. We spent maybe an hour chatting, and, after some drama with Google maps not specifying how to get on the Gardiner from Lake Shore, made it home. Mel was hungry -- breakfast had been early and light (Tim Hortons from the newly re-opened Brant and Upper Middle location) -- so we got some lunch, a porchetta sandwich from Fortinos for her and leftovers from Uptown for me.

At some point some cleaning happened, it's all a blur. That was the main thing. We were hosting Thanksgiving the next day so we had to put a lot of work into making our house presentable. Somehow, we pulled it off. You know, messes are really just individual objects that happen not to be in their designated spots. If you can look at it like that -- and I'm not saying everyone can -- cleaning becomes, perhaps not easier but more psychologically manageable. I focused on the kitchen or at least tried to while Mel brought up several other things that needed attending to; such is the way of the anxious.

People started coming around 2. Chitchat, logistics, cooking. Mama and Papa H brought the turkey and a selection of sides, I was responsible only for my carrots and turnip and -- after Mel reminded me -- potatoes. Honestly, I still feel like my C&T's fall short, being a bit mushy and watery (seriously, how do you get the water out?) and I always end up seasoning them into nothingness, I think I'd like them better with a true turnip carrot flavor. Nobody had anything to say about them and I wasn't going to beg for compliments.

It was nice, though. Everyone had somewhere to sit, everyone liked Hank, and he even played nice with Randy after an initial standoff. Many comments on our various plants. Sherlie did end up taking a break to go lie down upstairs -- this happened while Mel was out walking Hank with her mom, which caused her (Mel's) eyes to bulge out as we had failed to properly make the bed despite anticipating this as a need, but Sherlie was okay with it. We gathered around to switch from football to watch an episode of the Floor and put the apple pie in way too late, and espresso. People left around 10 and I made sure to move the car, which I had put in visitor's parking for the duration so that A&R could have an easier time unloading theirs. All in all a tiring day but we navigated it well and had a good time.

Last week's trip to my dad's went well. We decided at the last moment to -- with their permission -- bring Hank, and that was nice, he mostly paid attention to the cat. Usual convos with the guys and him and Deb, who added a month to her time at work before retiring for handover.

The week was what it was. Someone dented our car and I'm really salty about it and not particularly in the mood to get it fixed right away. I did a post on Burlington Together about it but I don't think it got approved because I guess they don't want to open to floodgates for people to just post random bitching.

I've also -- more or less permanently -- logged out of Facebook. This is something that's been a long time coming because social media produces nothing but anxiety and anger. I had stayed on largely to keep up with Blake's memes but I figure I can log on occasionally directly to his profile, and not make it part of my morning routine and thus continually go back there when I need a jolt of stimulation from some kind of input. I log in, I look at one thing, I log out.

Similarly, Mel is trying to use Instagram less, for similar reasons of it mainly provoking negative feelings. Right now we have kind of a fragile peace about us that social media constantly risks upsetting. I still do Bluesky, I still promote my blog, and I still follow Dave Meltzer on X for a regular hit of people randomly being mad about wrestling, but Facebook is done -- sorry in advance to all the people whose birthdays I will miss.

I think that's good. Hank might want to go for a walk soon but I'm in my pajamas.

Not a bad day overall.

Keep on rockin'

-Scotto