One of the 7 Deadly Sins: I has it.

We admit it.  Ron and I made way too much food for the two of us and loved every bit of it.  Lots of leftovers, lots of groaning and new stomach stretch marks.  But all worth it.

I admit that consumerism lured me in.  I had a coupon from Hy-vee for a free turkey with purchase of ham.  So I bought said ham even though I don't eat pork anymore (Ron loves the ham) and then sought out the brand of free turkey offered to me through this glorious coupon.  The smallest one I could find was 18 lbs.  Does that stop me?  No.  I bought the 18 lb turkey.  And we brined it and cooked it up along with all our favorite sides and pies.  And we continue to eat, slowly extending the size of our waists, giving bits and pieces to our pets.  They are all happy as well.  Ever hear a pet rat sigh?  Well ours do because they are so happy with trytophan.     (Or however the hell you spell it.)

Here are our food pics:



The turkey



Notice how clearing the table means throwing all our shit onto the floor or a chair?





It was a ton of food for just us but dammit, it was good. Thankfully I started the cranberry sauce and pies the day before. I really condone cooking things ahead of time.



There is Ron, posing pretty after cooking for hours with me. I have to admit that I have a kick ass husband. He doesn't sit on the couch and watch tv while I cook. He's in there, wrists deep into the food. I couldn't get it all done without him.

So today I am working on some crafting/art shit and I did some painting. I hate painting. Oh God, help me. I HATE PAINTING. I hate getting the paint all over my feet because I refuse to wear shoes. (I can hold a grip on the tiny parts of the sink and counter with me feet better if they are bare.) I hate dripping paint onto the cupboards. And I hate trying to make it all look even. I keep hitting the popcorn ceiling with blue paint and then swearing loudly. Fucking paint. Ron says it's ok because he wants to scrape every last bit of popcorn ceiling off in the house before we die. I figure we should be able to get it done before our loan ends. 30 years.

Here is me with my "Fuck you Paint I fucking hate your ass" face. Notice the defined shoulders from hefting a brush. Also notice the start of my Thanksgiving pooch from all the food I've been consuming and exercise I haven't been doing.



Yeah. That's normally how I look on any given day. Since the pain is coming back and I'm too scared to take the new pain pills I've been given, this is about as good as I get. Oh well. At least my feet are a pretty blue.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Tschus.