The time I told my mother we were thinking about not coming to Thanksgiving

I royally pissed my mother off the other day. Around here, like with just about everywhere, COVID cases are rising. I’ve been wrestling with the thought of going over for Thanksgiving as my brother, his girlfriend, and their young kids will be there. It’s not so much that I’m worried about getting it from them, I’m more worried about passing it to them. Especially the kids.

My mother was complaining about a friend of her’s daughter expressing concern that they were spending so much time together at my parents’ house, sans mask. I made the mistake of telling her that we were worried about Thanksgiving.

She pretty much lost it. Went on and on about how “this is a time for family,” and “are you going to pull this at Christmas too?” being some of the highlights for it.

I can’t listen this for the next month until Christmas is over. Have we missed that we are in a GLOBAL PANDEMIC and that PEOPLE ARE DYING? I don’t care what political party you support or what ideation that you buy into, this is an undeniable fact. And the thing that makes me laugh about this exchange is these are the people that wouldn’t let me into their house in April and insisted on having conversations from opposite ends of their driveway. I fucking can’t.

And then my stepdad today told me that polio was worse than COVID. No shit. Most people that recovered from polio ended up with life-long health problems, added to the fact that, at least from what I’ve seen in books and whatnot, the most heavily affected were young kids (I might be wrong on this, but this is from my limited exposure to the history of polio).

This is one of those years that I really wish that we would tell my family we’re going to see his, and his that we’re staying here because of work, and then we stay home, make something fancy that doesn’t involve turkey but does involve stuffing, and watch movies all day in our pajamas with the cats.

On a more positive note, but totally off topic, I finished book #37 on the year tonight! It was Anne Boleyn: 500 Years of Lies by Hayley Nolan. Anyone that knows me knows that I’m a big fan of Henry VIII’s second wife. There was a lot of the story that never made sense to me. This book filled in a lot of those holes. This book was very much written to clear the record and name of Anne, and definitely strikes the tone of mostly painting her in the best light possible. That being said, I think there’s a definite place in the lexicon of Anne Boleyn, but the story is probably somewhere in the middle. Personally, I like to think it errs toward the side of this book, but again – I’m also an Anne Boleyn apologist. At the very least, it’s a look at the facts through another lens, and this lens paints a picture that makes a lot more sense to me than the traditional histories ever did. It’s worth a read if you’re into Tudor history.

I’m pretty proud of the milestone of 37. I had set out to read 25, which I upped to 30 around June or so. I know a lot of people that blew their reading goal out of the water, but they also worked from home for most of the pandemic, even they’re even back to traditional work at all at this point. I worked through the whole thing, and I averaged about 3/4 of a book a week. (Yes, I’m actually going to admit that some of these were trashy romances that took a day and a half to read, but a book is a book. I can’t always read “high-brow” or intellectually stimulating books. Sometimes you just need to read some crap to give your brain a break.)

That’s it for today. Stay safe, friends!

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