Thursday, December 31, 2009

392: beautiful year, november

I turn thirty and am surrounded by some of my absolute most favorite people in the world--so much so that it is even a little overwhelming. We go to a vegetarian restaurant I've longed to try, and a week or two later, I receive a handful of text messages, telling us we had good timing--Cafe Brenda is to close. Despite this, I enjoy my autumn pie, my cranberry juice in a wine glass, my good good company, and finally kissing the twenties good-bye, which is more of a relief than anything else.

There's more hiking up Memorial Bluff, more celebrating of the fall colors, more of Penelope and Zephyr romping through the bracken. This is the last month Penny can come home without limping, and in December, I take her to the vet for x-rays, which come back inconclusive and are sent off to Rochester for further inspection. We joke about taking her to Mayo.

I make plenty of washcloths, as usual, and begin to learn how to felt.

We actually spend a weekend preparing the garden for spring--tilling the soil, mixing in leaves and compost, emptying the worm bin save the few worms that are left. I buy a composter and Ryan assembles it in the garage. We talk about getting a CSA share in the summer.

Thanksgiving is spent in Michigan this year, where my grandmother is in a care facility recovering from a broken hip. She has since been cleared by the doctors to go home, but her physical therapist has kept her into the new year. I head up the meal execution, but find there is no possible way I could have done so without the great help of my husband and two parents. My mother worries over my medication-sickness, but I assure her it's all part of the charm of my disease, and I will be better soon. My father smashes a deer on the way to one of our nursing home visits, and I forgive him.

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