Well welcome, whimsical winter weather wonderland! Whether we like it or not, tis the season for poorly plowed roads and slick sidewalks! And, as if perfectly planned for anxiety inducing torture, mother nature conveniently dumped a rare amount of white, flaky specks from the sky and created quite the uncertainty for my impending travels east. I kept uttering with spite in my tone, “You can’t make me stay, Mom (as in Mother Nature)! I’ll walk my way to Dartmouth even if it means I’ll get there for next Thanksgiving!” As Monday evening came around, the snow continuing to pile higher up my wellies, stress overtook me. My normal response of, “I’m fine,” probed Lisa to reply, “I know what that means. You’re stressed. Lets watch an episode of Chopped and drink some hot cocoa with peppermint schnapps.” How can one decline that offer? For the hour episode, my optimism grew, along with the snow outside, and as the sun rose into Tuesday, the snow exhibited no signs of weakening for my departure. When I arrived at work, I immediately checked the Department of Transportation website. To no surprise, giant red circles with white lines etched through the center, signaling road closures, flashed all over the map of Washington State. “Go figure.” I thought, “Of all weeks for there to be the first blizzard warnings in decades (Truth! Check out this story: http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2013498184_apwacoldsnow10thldwritethru.html), subzero temperatures (we’re talking -5°!), and road closures out of town! I really just want to go home for a few days!” Needless to say, as the hours pressed on, the snow finally began to let up and the sun peaked from behind the dense clouds. Susie, Larry, Harley (their dog), and I finally departed on our trek north to Spokane anticipating a slow journey. Surprisingly, the roads, according to Susie, were beautifully plowed; for my standards, they appeared untouched. The pavement and lines buried under the snow made it difficult for me to understand how this could be considered a good thing. Call me a plow snob, but I just didn’t understand the logic! At last, we made it to Spokane and on Wednesday morning I boarded my flight, barely made my connection in Las Vegas, and in 4 hours ran into the arms of my best friend, Dana, in Providence. At long last. The east coast. Not much changed, honestly. Dunkin Donuts still grace every street corner and people continue to drive horribly. I sure tell you, it's great to be home and catch up with friends and family. And since the season of giving thanks is upon us, I'd like to share with you my Thanksgiving day and meal in the only way I know how... punnily.
So, once I gorton (a French meat stuffing, pronounced like 'got on') on the plane and finally landed in Rhode Island, my Thanksgiving adventure began. A turkey day tradition, I met up with Katey for a delightful pie breakfast. We then picked up Kate and watched Dartmouth squash Fairhaven in the annual Thanksgiving day football game. Not too many fowls (because turkey is fowl... in a variety of ways) were called and the band stole the show as always. After the game, I rolled (like a dinner roll) into the driveway to see who turnip-ed for dinner. We watched the Pats game and began stuffing our faces with appetizers. After the Pats whipped the Lions like mashed potatoes, Mom called for dinner. As the scent of turkey filled the kitchen, I was boggled* (because cranberries come from bogs) thinking about how the farmers treated the turkey during its life. We enjoyed our dinner and played a very entertaining game of uno. By the end of night, I'd haddock* (had it) with Thanksgiving and went to bed in preparation for Black Friday.
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