I always feel left out of all the Thanksgiving trauma zeitgeist, as the most dramatic thing that goes on at ours is my mom running around trying to make sure that people eat slices of the pie she brought. Our one really disfunctional relative doesn't attend, it's an event with no alcohol, and everyone gets along fine.

Woot with much cheating I am done. I am ignoring the existence of the meta. Most of the items I had to cheat on I never would have gotten on my own. Mostly I'm just glad it's over.

Matt, I feel the same way.

I'm in the corner with Matt and msbelle. I've never had any T-day family drama. Actually, the closest I've come to family drama on Thanksgiving is wishing my dad and step-mom wouldn't be so generous about trying to get all us west-coasters together for thanksgiving, as occasionally, I'd like to spend the day with Aimee, MM, ND and Kristen at their Thanksgiving thing.

Pretty tame, really.

The closest we ever get to family T-day drama is if my grandmother is there, because we have to keep her away from doing the dishes at all cost. (She is a wonderful human being and an inspiration to us all, but she is also the world's worst housekeeper, and believes that simply rinsing plates under hot water will get them perfectly clean enough without any of that tedious mucking about with soap or sponges.)

As a child I was really terribly bored with Thanksgiving and the very boring relatives we always visited, but then all I wanted to do was sit in a corner and read a book or two. As an adult, the boring relatives have mostly died off and been replaced with much more interesting ones.

My interesting relatives have died off, and have been replaced with much more boring ones. Either way, we were never big on holiday dramatics.

Popping in from the library near where our T-day festivities are this year. (Landing page on the library's wireless: Thou shall not use the South Country WiFi for ill purposes.)

T-day so far has included enormous amounts of food and wine - breakfast of prosecco and pumpkin pie stand out. Plus walks down to the water, card games, sighting of a flock of wild swans, trying to stump the electronic 20 questions, a fake horse head left in someone's bed, and a midnight commando raid to plant the front lawn with a few dozen plastic flamingos, complete with a sign attributing the deed to the (very snooty and persnickety) village architectural board.

Oh! And I just got someone to check out Weaver and the Factory Maid , which I came across on the first shelf I looked at her. It helps that I had already been pimping Deb's books during a long conversation about modern fiction this morning.

Have not yet made it into the city - looks like it won't happen today. But it's just so damn nice out here.

I'm sure it helps that my nephews and neice are delightful and fairly well-behaved.

(I was recently dismayed to find out that three of the four nephews are now old enough to drive. It seems just a few years ago that they were this high.)

We've been pretty sans T-Day Drama in my family as well. The owrst we have is when my Uncle Matt decides to be a total cooter and say something rude about my brother because he spent so much money and time on his degree and ended up working "at Target". He does not, in fact, work "at Target". He works FOR Target, in their world headquarters, is kind of high up on the distribution food-chain, and makes a shitload of money.

We usually save our drama for the funerals. Same Uncle. Told my sister that her smoking was the reason she "couldn't find a job OR a man."