Thanksgiving dinner

We had Thanksgiving dinner this year at Pickwick & Frolic down on East 4th Street downtown. John made all the arrangements and picked up the check for us, so I didn’t spend a cent. It was the same crowd as last year, plus one additional person who wasn’t with us then. Her name was Brenda, a former coworker of John’s who is now retired and lives in a senior apartment complex not far from me. I found her delightful and very personable, and she and I hit it off right away.

Their buffet was wonderful. Very good food and I actually ate too much, to the point of feeling uncomfortable. It hit me so fast. Even coming down with a cold, as I have for the past few days, didn’t stop me from having a great time, however.

Afterward, when the other guests had already left, Brenda, John and I spent a bit of time at his private office several blocks away (the office I think he doesn’t really need). John had been working on some writing there earlier in the day and needed to collect his laptop and some other belongings. I hadn’t been to his office since the first day I moved back to Cleveland more than two years ago, and I was surprised to see it more fully decorated now. He has an unbelievable number of plants in that small space.

John, Brenda and I rode the same bus together afterward, as the three of us all live in the same suburb and there was only one east-to-west busline running through it because of the holiday.

Got home, and the housemates and their guests were still partying downstairs, but I made a beeline to my second-floor room as I wasn’t feeling very well and needed to rest. I lay on the air mattress and listened to “All in the Family” reruns while music was blaring from downstairs. I didn’t want to eat anything else the rest of the night, but by 9:00 I made myself just one peanut butter sandwich, only so I could take my diabetes pills.


Looks like my former housemate John L. has moved out for good. Last week Keinya and Steve moved into his back bedroom. I peeked into the room yesterday when the door was open and no one was in there, and was surprised to learn there is another door opposite which leads to a private enclosed porch. (Viewing the back room from the house’s exterior, I had thought the porch, which has ample windows on three sides, was the actual bedroom. But it turns out it isn’t.)