I drove up to Fort Collins (about 70 mile north of Denver) yesterday to have Thanksgiving dinner with my sister Susan and brother-in-law George. Their oven is on the fritz, and so they cooked their turkey in a deep fryer, which George's friends say is the only way to go. Just watch out for that hot boiling oil. A pleasant time was had by all, and thankfully the subject of politics did not come up, which is saying something in that household. In any case, it is like pulling teeth trying to get a photograph of the two of them. Susan especially hates to have her photograph taken, and once playfully came at me with a butcher knife until I put the camera down. I just don't understand that attitude. But I do still want to live, so I have to be very circumspect about photos these days. After a bit of prodding, I was able to take the above photograph of Susan and George at their Thanksgiving table, without any knives being pulled. A Thanksgiving miracle.
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