Yesterday passed in a flurry of cleaning, and cooking, and otherwise making ready for guests at dinner. Everything clicked, nothing broke, or burned, or mysteriously went missing. The guests arrived, bearing beautiful, bounteous hostess gifts–including the most gorgeous poinsettia (in a hanging basket!) I’ve ever seen.
Said guests are a husband-dearest’s co-worker, his wife, their teenage soon, and their beagle. The family is from Germany, and they’re still awaiting the closing on their home in their sparse apartment. Also, this is their first American Thanksgiving. What better way to celebrate that bounty and goodness than by sharing it with someone experiencing it for the first time?
So, anyway, all was going wonderfully. We retired after dinner and dessert to the lanai, to enjoy the mild evening outside. Dasher kept running in and out, looking, I think, so see if perhaps some turkey had fallen yet onto the floor where he could eat it. Until one time he ran out and husband’s co-worker said, “Oh, look. Blood!” Sure enough, Dasher left a trail of messy, bloody paw prints in his wake.
It was dark outside, so I picked him up and carried him inside to see–only to find a bloodbath all over the tile floor–living room, dining room, and kitchen–and dotting across the rugs and sofa. It was like looking at a horrific version of The Family Circle cartoon when you followed the dotted line to see where the kids had gone on their “direct route.”
We cleared out the sink, put the dog there, and washed his paw, trying to find the source. It just kept bleeding, and bleeding, and I couldn’t see where it came from. Out came the bandages, gauze and wrap, but it kept bleeding. Whereupon we had to ask our guests to please stop cleaning up the blood and leave so we could take the dog to the university’s vet school emergency room!
They were very understanding, of course, but still! What an introduction to Thanksgiving. Maybe for some families, bloodshed and emergency room visits are the norm, but I can assure you for us, it’s really not.
In good news, it turned out to be a ripped-off toenail that bled, um, profusely. They snipped it off, stemmed the bleeding, and sent us home, poorer but relieved. To clean up not only the detritus of dinner, but the remaining bloody mayhem, and start the washing machine going on bloody rugs and rags. It was a long night, and an early morning.
So, I wish you a Happy Black Friday, if you’re the shopping type, and a Happy Day of Rest if you’re not (but still off work), or at the very least, Happy Friday. May this day be yet another thing for you to be thankful for, come next Thanksgiving Day.