We were treated to a lovely cozy night at AK's with "hot ports". The guinea pigs were brought out to cuddle and I observed them warily across the room. Where I come from, those is varmints and I am highly suspicious of them, haven been bitten by similar smaller creatures at a sensitive time in my childhood on sensitive parts of my body. They are very cute in a kind of Through the Looking Glass kind of way and make disturbing squeaky sounds like balloons being rubbed at a raucous birthday party. Scott treated us to a mythical story about an Italian hobo in Langley that used to keep a herd of over a hundred guinea pigs and turn them into culinary delights, including canned Cochons Guinea Rustique. Rillets anyone? A good pairing with ginger-flecked Stilton, je pense.
I stayed up until 2 reading The Help and finished it today. It is devastating to think that this history is so recent. Although the stories are about persecution and hatred, there is also the flip side of the human capacity to love and take care of each other, the heartbreaking tenderness of servants who were surrogate mothers to the children in their care. It's heart-breaking. I cried buckets of tears.
The tree is up. The gifts have been bought, made, sampled and wrapped. Best wishes to all of you this holiday weekend.
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