So, it’s been an interesting day. I woke up to a camel twenty feet or so from my front door. And some little billy goats, a few horses, a scary-looking cow and a lot of barnyard smell. The circus is in town for the weekend (again) and we happen to live right above this large-ish parking lot where the circus sets up shop. This one sports a tiger (but I haven’t seen that outside yet.)

I walked around all the animals, careful to avoid their multiple droppings, and set off to pick the kids up from school. I smiled as I congratulated myself for missing every bit of excrement. Then, slishhh. My foot slid goo-il-y on the sidewalk in some DOGGY POO. Choruses of “Oh How I Love France” echoed through my head. I scraped the poo from my shoe and kept walking. Hmph.

Later, I went to the grocery store to pick up the turkey I ordered. (I’ll be out of town next weekend speaking so we’re having our Thanksgiving tomorrow). When I brought the 15 pounder to the checkout, the lady looked at me very strangely. She sputtered 4,000 words in flurried French. I tried to tell her about Thanksgiving. I hate to admit this, but, yeah, I imitated an Indian and a pilgrim. She still didn’t get it. Then I said something like, “It’s a day when we say thank you for a lot of stuff.” She shook her head. Thought I was crazy. Then she rang it up. FORTY FIVE scary EUROS, which is about fifty three US dollars. Man! That is one expensive dinde! The checkout lady is right. I am crazy.

We’ll celebrate Thanksgiving tomorrow with two families (one from Sophie’s school, one from Aidan and Julia’s), our friends the Heymans, my dentist (!), a lady from England. Should be fun. I have NO idea where we’ll put everyone. How we’ll cram two tables in our dining/living room is beyond me. But at least we’ll be eating the most expensive turkey on the planet, while the camels and farm animals munch on trees outside and dogs do their thing.