Madder than a wet hen

The week leading up to turkey day has me very irritated.
It all started Saturday, and each day since has been filled with a series of events seemingly orchestrated to piss me off.
Mind you, none of these things are too serious, but so many little things are piling up during a stretch of days that has its fair share of stress.

I finally got a chance to head out to lunch today shortly before 2 p.m. I had no idea where I wanted to go, driving in a some sort of hypoglycemic-like state down Sheridan for a bit, I ended up stopping at Le Café, which I visit from time to time. I knew it would be quiet, and that was appealing.
I ordered the soup of the day, a tomato grilled cheese soup, accompanied with a chicken and fruit salad. The soup came with a roll, also. The soup was very good and hearty, although the chicken salad was not as good as past times I've been in, but it was full of pineapple, almonds and grapes.

The good news is, it's Thanksgiving week, which means a little time off work, hopefully a drink or two with good company Wednesday night, and then resurrecting traditions of the holiday dinner with family. The family has shrunk and grown and shrunk again over the years, but it's always good to spend a day enjoying good food with good people, and remembering years past; enjoying some things that are new, and taking comfort in the things that are still the same as they ever were.