Happy Thanksgiving to All:

[Packo]

Bill,

Keith is a closet thread trasher who's finally come out. Must be the French in him.

Pack

[Keith_Hixson]

My Dad said my brown eyes are from my French Heritage. Who Said French.
I've been around Packo Tom and Bob K. much long on this thread I'm becoming a thread thrasher. I need help! Any therapist out there? Help me I've become just like Bob K., boy do I need help.

Keith

[b3196]

Keith
Don't fight it....Just give in to the temptations of the keyboard. You gotta admit it feels a whole lot better trashin' than forgivin'
bOOger

[Keith_Hixson]

Get any Firewood?

Keith

[b3196]

Yup
Gotta a whole truck load....Gonna have to invite my son over to help me unload and stack......Oh Yeah,,,Arms and legs are still attached
bOOger

[SEATJERKER]

...

...easy fillin' up dem toyota's huh!, as about the same payload as a bushel basket,...

...don't try to fool us today bOOger, we knows ya wuz pullin yur pinecone, and rubbin' yur accorns,...

...

[Keith_Hixson]

Just finished Dinner,
My Wife and I are going out for a drive into the mountains. She is the office manager for a conference and retreat center up in the mountains. They have lots of game up there and we'll have a nice litte drive.

Keith

[Packo]

Keith,

Hmmm, games huh? I know how you men of the cloth are......especially French men of the cloth. Lord help me, my role model is sicker than BOOGER! All these years bro.......help me!

Dissalutioned in Beaufort.

[Keith_Hixson]

One of the college kids wore a T-shirt the other day. It said, "We are all dysfunctional, Get Over It"
There is a little French in all of us.
I probably only have one drop of French blood but its there.

It just occurred to me: The Kid's Last Name is: [Douvier] now that's funny.

Anyway got back from our little drive in the Mountains. It was snowing and beautiful up in the hills. We live in a beautiful place. Can't help but believe in a divine creator when you see the beauty in nature.

Keith

[revwardoc]

I spent Turkey Day wearing my best 18th century duds and greeting people at the front door of Longfellow's Wayside Inn in Sudbury, MA for 7 hours. It was a cold, windy, rainy day and I said "Hello! Happy Thanksgiving! Welcome to the Wayside Inn!" to over a thousand people; had my picture taken a hundred times (including once while holding a 2-month old baby, and another time with my arm around an 18-year old babe); told stories about the resident ghost; and cleared up a lot of misconceptions and half-truths about the American Revolution, and George Washington (no, he didn't sleep there). I like to while away the intervals between dinner seatings playing "Genetics" (that's where I try to guess who's blood kin to whom), and "What-did-he/she-have-for-dinner" (that's where I take a look at the front of someone's shirt/blouse and guess at what the stains are). One old gent was so bad I was going to tell him that the Inn does have doggie bags so it wasn't necessary to "wear" the leftovers home. It was a damn long day, but I've already signed up to do it on Xmas Eve and next Thanksgiving.