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We had a lovely thanksgiving here, managed to keep political stuff to a minimum– my dad was more scornful about the current administration than anyone– and we had a rousing discussion about the Catholic Church that rapidly segued into a surprisingly nuanced discussion of Mormonism over the dinner table, but nobody had to bring up Black Lives Matter and farm-BIL didn’t have to fling himself onto any grenades with his extremely aggressively-reasonable “now, I’ve heard that said before– explain it to me so it makes logical consistent sense” which works fucking beautifully when a white man does it about anything from racial inequality to soy paranoia to antivax stuff onward. He really has weaponized being an extremely quick-thinking mild-mannered big super-white dude with a folksy manner, it’s really impressive. But it was not called for on this blessed occasion.
My dad is doing ok with his busted knee, and has a brace and a crutch and no hesitation to take me up on my attentive offers to get him stuff, so that was good.
My nephew responded beautifully to my overtures of discussing tiny houses, and helped me survey (just with our eyes, to kill time, not with any formal equipment) the potential site. I don’t think his 12-year-old self is going to have a ton to constructively offer but I am sure whatever we wind up doing, he’ll be excited about, so that’s cool.
I keep nodding off as I sit here so I am going to take my sleepy ass off to bed here in a moment, I am Beat. But, it all worked out nicely, and my folks remain mostly nice as heck. I pointed out to my non-farm BIL, who kept disappearing to go “hunt deer” some more, that if he just wanted to escape there are comfy chairs upstairs in the granary building just across the driveway, and the wifi reaches out there, so if he didn’t really feel like hiking out around the property with his rifle he could just go up there and sit in a cushy recliner and look at the Internet on his phone and none of us would ever be the wiser.
I mean, I get it. We don’t have a ton of family drama but we’re also not super interesting, really. He’s extended himself rather a great deal to socialize with my parents and make sure they’re taken care of, this past two or three days, so I don’t blame him wanting some solitude.
I happen to think all our conversations are brilliant, however, so.
OK I made it to 8:45, there’s no shame in falling asleep now.
We had a lovely thanksgiving here, managed to keep political stuff to a minimum– my dad was more scornful about the current administration than anyone– and we had a rousing discussion about the Catholic Church that rapidly segued into a surprisingly nuanced discussion of Mormonism over the dinner table, but nobody had to bring up Black Lives Matter and farm-BIL didn’t have to fling himself onto any grenades with his extremely aggressively-reasonable “now, I’ve heard that said before– explain it to me so it makes logical consistent sense” which works fucking beautifully when a white man does it about anything from racial inequality to soy paranoia to antivax stuff onward. He really has weaponized being an extremely quick-thinking mild-mannered big super-white dude with a folksy manner, it’s really impressive. But it was not called for on this blessed occasion.
My dad is doing ok with his busted knee, and has a brace and a crutch and no hesitation to take me up on my attentive offers to get him stuff, so that was good.
My nephew responded beautifully to my overtures of discussing tiny houses, and helped me survey (just with our eyes, to kill time, not with any formal equipment) the potential site. I don’t think his 12-year-old self is going to have a ton to constructively offer but I am sure whatever we wind up doing, he’ll be excited about, so that’s cool.
I keep nodding off as I sit here so I am going to take my sleepy ass off to bed here in a moment, I am Beat. But, it all worked out nicely, and my folks remain mostly nice as heck. I pointed out to my non-farm BIL, who kept disappearing to go “hunt deer” some more, that if he just wanted to escape there are comfy chairs upstairs in the granary building just across the driveway, and the wifi reaches out there, so if he didn’t really feel like hiking out around the property with his rifle he could just go up there and sit in a cushy recliner and look at the Internet on his phone and none of us would ever be the wiser.
I mean, I get it. We don’t have a ton of family drama but we’re also not super interesting, really. He’s extended himself rather a great deal to socialize with my parents and make sure they’re taken care of, this past two or three days, so I don’t blame him wanting some solitude.
I happen to think all our conversations are brilliant, however, so.
OK I made it to 8:45, there’s no shame in falling asleep now.
