It's Saturday morning, and I've survived "Thanksgiving", the day after Thanksgiving.

It's a cold, frosty morning. Wood furnace is cranked up, filling the house with earthy odors of ash and elm burning. I'm planning on staying home and indoors all day, especially after being gone most of yesterday.

First, I went to my father's house (shared with sister Barb). I soon discovered he's in a procrastinating mood in moving his belongings to his new duplex. It's like he's in a blue funk, which is very unusual for him.

So, with some motivating words and actions, I started loading up my truck with knick-knacks and books. Pretty soon, we had the whole back of the truck filled. He was getting excited. I got him to call the moving company and set a firm date for the "big move". Next Wed, Dec. 1. Barb was helpful, although busy with her share in the Thanksgiving dishes. (I had already made my corn dish.)

Then, Dad drove us all over to my other sister's for our delayed turkey feast. My daughter, husband, and child came up. Everything was great. Dad withdrew into the food, and later, the TV. He doesn't hear well, and tunes out all extraneous noises and activities, burying his head into the plate of food set before him. Meanwhile, the rest of us had a grand time talking and giving attention to "Little John" (13 mo.).

On the drive home, I realized how dangerous it is for my father to be on the road. He weaved and bobbed, accelerated and stopped suddenly, didn't use his turn signals, drove with his brights on (Me: "Your brights are on". Him: "No they're not". Me: "Check your dashboard-- they're on". Him: "I don't see anything". Etc.) At age 93 9in March), I think it's getting close to taking away the car keys.

But, as I said, I survived to spend another day watching college football and basketball. Go IU, beat Purdue. Ha ha. Like that will happen. Good thing there are other games to watch. Enjoy your weekend.