laramie

Carolyn invited me to join her family for Thanksgiving Dinner yesterday afternoon, and it was a wonderful time: good conversation, entertaining people, the chance to catch up a bit with long-time friends and, of course, plenty of good food. A guitar was found for Nate and he gave us a few songs, Corey brought out his drum. Cynthia and her son stopped in after dinner and we heard how he has won an award for a book he wrote.

Unfortunately, there was also some tobacco smoke in the air and it started getting to me after a while, so I left earlier than I might otherwise have done. Tobacco seems to affect me more emotionally than physically: I start feeling isolated and imagining hidden motives around me. I didn't want to spoil a good evening with that, so I thanked everyone and said goodnight.

On the way out of the house I had a close call with the back steps: In the dim light of the evening I misjudged where they began and lost my balance. Exclaiming, 'Jesus Christ!' I grabbed for the nearest support and my little finger caught a coil on the back of a refrigerator standing beside me on the porch. I was able to pull myself back just enough that I landed on my ass on the top step rather than going knees and face-first onto the cement steps below. The heroic finger is sore and scratched, but otherwise unharmed.