Giving Thanks (Remotely)

I need to set the record straight.

I'm very thankful for RP.

That said, I was not thankful with RP this Thanksgiving, as this southward-wandering spouse of mine spent the better part of last week in Baja, Mexico, doing what he loves best:

Avoiding his wife and shacking up with men.

Alright, alright, surfing is what RP loves best and that's what he got to be thankful for (sans turkey) last week.

Truth be told, RP's Latin trek was my doing, as I knew if he fled the country I'd be free to hop a plane northward and spend some much-needed holiday time with the Radfords -- because in case you've forgotten, I'm sacrificing some primo yuletide-cheer time to the Himalayas.

And I did just that. Plus, since my flight arrived around 5 pm on Thursday, I got to enjoy all of the gorging without any of the prep-work. Eat your heart out, Little Red Hen.

That said, I did manage to tote a gluten-free, sugar-free, all-natural pumpkin pie through two airports, two airplanes, and one TSA check-point. And yes, I tried it first, to make sure it was worthy of the effort escorting it to Washington (It was.).

The highlights of the holidays include seeing three darling nephews and one beee-youuu-tiii-fulll red-headed niece. I was so taken by her I bought her a new Christmas dress forthwith, which is what you do when you're infatuated with someone (are you reading this, RP?).

Four days, three sub-freezing runs, one movie, one birthday, and a whole lot of turkey later, I came home to see my RP, who survived both the Mexican terrain and the time away from his beloved (football).  

Now I have exactly 19 days to pack in the Christmas cheer before I leave the Christian world (and my ability to shower and drink from the tap) for Mother Everest.

So are the days of our lives.

I'm beginning to think there's a reason they call it "fall."

Don't worry; I'm not here to complain. But now that I've made the appropriate disclaimer, I'm going to go ahead and do just that. So far this Autumn thing just isn't turning out so hot (and the fact that it still IS hot around here is just adding insult to injury).

It all began (as these things always do) with a rabbit.

And it ended with for a rabbit. Yes, our time with the long-eared Sadie Doe was sweet, but in the end, RP couldn't reconcile himself with the fact that she was not a canine. Now Sadie resides in Fountain Valley, having lived nine months a half-mile from the beach and never once seeing the ocean.

It's a tragic tale.

But we managed to get one last family shot, before she hopped out of our lives forever and into the arms of a good home girl from Craig's List who didn't appear to harbor plans on eating her.

With the Prices down one furball and two long ears, we decided to make the most of our weekends. Especially since we were also simultaneously released from our babysitting job church calling with the four year olds. So we set off for the trees -- the Sequoias, to be exact.

Things were cold. Marshmallows improved matters marginally.

RP was the picture of chivalry, though. He not only built me a fire to keep me from taking the car and leaving him in the sub-30 degree nights, but also made me a "heat rock" to put in my sleeping bag. The rock worked magnificently until I started smelling burning towel/bag/flesh and realized that RP was secretly trying to roast me to death in my sleep.

I'm just relieved I saved Sadie in time. Who knows what else this madman is capable of.

Even in the beautiful Giant Forest with no radio or cell reception, we still couldn't escape all the election talk.

Speaking of elections, RP and I did our civil duty and made a date night of voting. Since that involved ten "propositions," it ended up being a super sexy evening.

Until we actually saw the results.

There were tears. And the eating of way too many sugar-free, gluten-free peanut butter cookies (the downfall of America as we know it is no reason to abandon your health).

Nonetheless, we move on: through the loss of presidential hopefuls, ballot propositions, body heat, and pet rabbits. Since primo pie-making time is imminent, I still have something left to live for. Salvation, thy name is pumpkin.