The Cryptid's eldest fuzzy daughter, The Void,  is tolerating snuggles from Criminal Bastard Man, my devious yet sweet tuxie boy. This is by way of being unprecedented behavior, as The Void is twelve pounds of pure muscle and has never fully accepted the presence of my cats in her realm. Could they be experiencing the human emotion of friendship?? Time will tell!

I managed to somehow stay up until an ungodly hour (I say, as if this isn't my natural state when left unsupervised), resulting in a late wake-up, late breakfast, and now, subsequently, a late-ish trip to the grocery store for Th*nksg*v*ng supplies. I am contributing a couple of pies and some wine, but otherwise $KID4 is in charge, which is absolutely fine with me. $WIFE (z"l) was always the reigning monarch when it came to T-giving cooking -- she would spend nine hours in the kitchen, literally, with a cadre of helpers doing her bidding, and the results were always worth it. I, however, am not as skilled as she was in the kitchen and furthermore have no desire to be in charge of T-giving dinner whatsoever, as evidenced by last year's turkey day entry. Pies, however... those I can do.

So I am off to dig up the pecan pie and sour cream apple pie recipes, put together something resembling a list, and brave the store the Sunday before the main American feast day. Pray for my sanity.