11/26/09

11/26/09--Thanksgiving Break.

Ah. Thanksgiving. The holiday for the aunts who concoct a lumpy, oily over salted sludge called "Gravy". Well, not in this family. My momma knows how to whip up a creamy, perfectly seasoned, rust hued sauce, perfect for moisturizing the often dried out bird (or hypodermic needle infatuated with a junkie's dosage of Tryptophan--ours was not dried out by the way). Our Thanksgiving spread provided for a plethora of good eats. From 'Roasted Fennel Soup with Hazelnuts and Cranberries' to a 'Grilled Turkey filled with a Granny Smith Apple and Sage Dessing' and the infamous influx of root vegetables (from the cinnamony turnip to the sweet n buttery butternut squash). I popped into the kitchen and satiated my culinary longing by fixing up an appetizer of 'Brie, Pumpkin Seed, and Cranberry Mousse on Wheat Toastlets with an Ambrosia Apple and Red Pearl Onion Chutney and a Fig-Wildflower Blossom Honey Aioli. Dessert? Pumpkin Pie. Pecan Pie. Sour Cream Pie (a family recipe...you would not understand it's wonder) moisturized with a cup of coffee dosed with Bailey's. Yum, Yum. The ambiance was set with with a warm, blazing, wood fire set in the slate stone fire place which my dad laid and tended with his pyro prowess. The Hoover's homestead is the place to be ya'll.
My phone was an inhibitor of family relations, so my sister stole my cellphone from me and is currently unwilling to give it back. Frankly, I am happy she did and hope she holds onto it for a few more days. Throw it in the ocean for sometime. Drown it in the bath tub. Tie it to the back of the Ford and take it on a disparaging trek through the multifaceted terrain; crack its screen, deafen it's ear piece and muffle it's microphone. Take me back to a simple life devoid of mundanely robotic ringtones full of their anticipatory retaliations.
None the less, my Thanksgiving started off on a high note. Why you ask? My cousin rolled into my parent's house slinging a holstered digital video camera with memory cartridges full of his 3-year-old daughter singing 'Saturday' and 'Secrets'...enough to leave me feeling full of joy...leaving me hopeful...leaving me satisfied... (as a chocolate flourless cake might--minus the guilt) and giggling like a piglet from her sheer adorableness. I was wholeheartedly impressed. Marketing wise? I wish I could bring her on tour with me--she could probably sell more CDs then I currently do. Kids are awesome. Let's leave it at that.
Here's to a less technological me (ha, yet here I am writing a blog)...a less technological you...a less technological us...let's be thankful for one another. Bring me back to the day of the ink filled quill pen and the previously readily available (and quite romantic) post card.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Love,
Andrew

Song of the day?
Fuck that. Anything by Paolo Nutini will do today (tonight)...enjoy.

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