4am Thanksgiving Day

Didn’t get up till five.

Let Murphy out. Turn on TV, wash face, brush teeth, make coffee. Let Murphy in. Maggie and I are alone this Thanksgiving Day. My kids are grown with kids of their own, and they’re off to the extended In-Laws to visit grandparents. Funny … last I looked, I was a grandparent too. But they’ll be over later. Hope I’m still awake. Maggie’s kids are down to see their dad in Virginia and changed their plans. Now they won’t be over till Friday after. I hope there’s some turkey left.

I find it a little sad. But on the other hand, there is no early morning craziness; no jockeying for breakfast positions, no bumping into one another in the kitchen, no interference from additional bodies taking up space while trying to prepare the Thanksgiving meal—no bickering no fighting, no competition for the couch to take my tryptophan nap. Today there is none of that … and I find it a little sad.

Bring pellet stove fuel in from trunk of car. It’s freezing outside at 5am and the sky is crystal clear. Stars are like diamonds set on black cloth and I’m sure the biggest brightest one is really Venus. Or maybe another. But not Mars. Mars is red. Fill stove. Start fire. Bring food in from the shed, the veggies and fruit and turkey. Maggie tells me to bring in the cinnamon rolls for breakfast. I bring them in first.

Chop! Chop! Chop! Onions and celery. Wait for cinnamon rolls and pour another mug of coffee—add Baileys. Have a cinnamon roll. Have another cinnamon roll. Share with Murphy. Maggie cooks up the sausage and wonders if we have enough. There are only two of us. It should be enough, but she doubles it anyway. Clean turkey and I am thankful for the new gooseneck faucet I installed on the kitchen sink two days ago, even though I cursed a lot putting it in. I hate plumbing. Go online to find out what time 98-Rock plays Alice’s Restaurant by Arlo Guthery. Probably noon. It’s a Thanksgiving Day tradition around my house. I set my smartphone alarm. Siri will call.

Maggie does the job I promised yesterday to do. She assembles the ingredients for the stuffing. I feel bad because I was writing this blog. I take responsibility for my promise and take over. She smiles and kisses me on the cheek and says she’s my sous chef. I mix the ingredients; add the onions and celery and sausage. I need an egg to bind the ingredients. Maggie’s standing next to me whisking an egg in a cup. She can read my mind.

Preheat oven. Pour an eggnog. Add extra bourbon. Stir. Fill turkey with stuffing. Oil to crisp skin. Put in oven, set timer for 30 minutes to baste. Wash dishes to avoid too many later. Last-minute house cleaning missed yesterday. Maggie takes shower. I pour another eggnog. Add more bourbon. Update blog. Share Alice’s Restaurant on Facebook, I love that song. Respond to several posts from friends. Wish folks a Happy Thanksgiving.

Turn on Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.  

Don’t know if I’ll be back to this today. Probably not. It is Thanksgiving, after all. So I will pass on my good wishes now.

Happy Thanksgiving to all my friends, and to all who are to become my friends.

God Bless.

Best Regards,

DB

Website - www.dbcorey.com

Twitter - DB Corey

Twitter - Detective Moby Truax

DB Corey on Facebook - tinyurl.com/mltv6rs 

DB Corey Author FB site bit.ly/DBCorey-Author

DB Corey on LinkIn - tinyurl.com/oftk7do

Meet Myster Write on Facebook – www.facebook.com/MeetMysterWrite

The Dulles Christmas Expo

What fun this was. I've been to trade shows and expos before, but I was never on the merchant side of the table, although, I confess, eight-hours on your feet can take a toll.

On Friday last, I manned a table filled with books published by Intrigue Publishing, and assisted Austin Camacho—occasionally asking far too many questions—promoting twelve novels written by four separate authors: one of which was mine, one by Penny Clover Petersen, one written by C.A. Vestraete, and nine—yes, count ‘em, nine—by Austin Camacho. We schmoozed any passerby that showed an interest in the bright and sundry covers arrayed across the table, and I gained a bit of insight as to the popularity of Austin as an author when several folks came looking for him, having bought one or two of his novels last year.

I engaged folks from around the country who were shopping for Christmas. Some were curious, asking questions about the books, the plots, and the characters. Some bought books for themselves or others as Christmas gifts, and the real kick for me, other than scribbling my name on the Title Page, was chatting it up with these folks. Most were avid readers, but some were published writers; some were aspiring writers, and still others were reluctant writers that seemed to be searching for a gentle nudge. We chatted about, well, writing, of course. And publishing. Then there were several guys who were retired Navy, and we swapped sea stories for a short while, being a Navy Vet myself. What I found interesting in regard to that was that it was Austin’s book, The Piranha Assignment, that sparked the conversation about submarines. Methinks I see writing a military thriller in my not-too-distant future.    

All in all, I found the event rewarding on many levels. Yeah, Chain of Evidence was a favorite, and shoppers bought a bunch of copies, but chatting with folks is the part I really enjoyed, not to mention the toddler running around with the squeaky shoes who put a broad smile on my face. And I found that if you just offer a smile to someone passing by, the odds are very good, that you’ll get one in return.

Website - www.dbcorey.com

Twitter - DB Corey

Twitter - Detective Moby Truax

DB Corey on Facebook - tinyurl.com/mltv6rs 

DB Corey Author FB site bit.ly/DBCorey-Author

DB Corey on LinkIn - tinyurl.com/oftk7do

Meet Myster Write on Facebook – www.facebook.com/MeetMysterWrite