Thanksgiving2010

As I am writing this I am stuffed so full that I needed to unbutton my tuxedo suit a notch. I had more than my fair share of treats this weekend of family overload, the treats are what I am most thankful for. I was accosted into the barbaric state known as Wisconsin for this holiday, which at first I dreaded. Previous trips have developed my distaste for this state of cheese (which I never seem to encounter).

We drove to Oshkosh at my grandparents on Wednesday. Our first night was quite tame, my perch was established on the couch, and I would say that was the climax of the night, riveting, I know.

The next day we all piled in the already crowded car and drove north to a place called Sturgeon Bay in Door County, WI. I observed that we made one quick stop at a tavern about two minutes away from the cabin, it seemed as if My Nemesis has not been properly potty trained. This does not surprise me, but evokes a snide giggle in my furry chest, as there always seems to be a fuss about my outdoor bathroom habits. As I strolled into the cabin, my hopes and expectations of WI were exceeded immensely.

I could smell succulent turkey vapors rising from the oven. Sausage wrapped in bacon, fried cheese olives, creamy mashed potatoes were all amongst other treats that I would be lucky enough to sample. The host whose name was Pete, and his daughter were very gracious. I have never had so much turkey in my entire life. Food was being thrown from all corners. I had to stay quick on my paws to catch all of the bits that were flying like saucers through the air toward my general direction.

There was a giant hot tub in the living room which was a cause for concern. No, I did not bring my swimming suit, as I have never been a huge fan of water. Living by the Gulf Coast was pure torture for me. At one point someone had a stroke of genius, instead of letting Smokey in the hot tub, we should let him use the Nesco Roaster. I had never heard of this contraption prior to my outing, but from the sound of it, the device was filled with hot grease from remnants of the turkey. This is the exact kind of hot tub I want to one day install in my penthouse in New York city once it is done being built, filled with steaming hot grease and gravy. Although the idea of the Nesco was suggested, people were too inebriated to follow through on the plan, part of the Wisconsin experience I suppose.

The day wore on and turned into the dark evening on Lake Michigan, I noticed rum being consumed in massive amounts as well as Oktoberfest beer. I needed to be on patrol for food most of the night, which was fine, this gave me a chance to relax. My novel has been at a standstill, inspiration has been weak in these dark, long, winter days.

The next day after a great breakfast of ham and eggs, I fell into a limp, deep, slumber for most of the day. We traveled to my Uncle Matt's in Milwaukee later that evening.

I was slightly offended by some words of my breath being less than fresh. Later that evening after everyone had gone out and once again left me to peril in the cold unfurnished box Uncle Matt calls a home, I saw a gift shimmering on the table. This time he had left out breath mints for me, with ease I jumped up and ate at least 20 since my breath had been such a cause for concern earlier in the evening ( I can take a hint, the suggestion was anything but subtle).

I enjoyed the mints, although I had some trouble separating the plastic from them, and spent most of my time laying on the comfortable bed that my Uncle Matt had set up for me there. All in all, the weekend was a success, I ate more turkey than anyone else in the house, and slept like a King. The vacation was good, now back to Chicago, and back to the grueling business of being a man with too many responsibilities.