Thanksgiving: We had a really great Thanksgiving, and by that I mean I didn't cook a thing. Didn't lift a finger, except when I said, "Why yes, I'd love some more wine."

There were definitely some moments when it didn't seem like Thanksgiving was meant to happen. When the oven wouldn't work -- the oven at C's house that was supposed to cook the pumpkin cheesecake and the turkey. When R, the host, loaded up his truck with borrowed chairs and tables -- and his truck wouldn't start.

While others were pushing the truck around and fretting over the turkey, I spent Thanksgiving morning at the spa with a few friends, getting a pedicure. There was snacking, and champagne, and more snacking, and eventually we made our way over to R's, where there was more sitting around and eating, plus lying in a hammock, and watching the dog chase the chickens.

At last we sat down at the table for the real meal. The food -- prepared by a crew of Peace Corps Volunteers, who I think were paid in beer -- was amazing. Turkey and stuffing and green beans and cornbread and potatoes and more. It was a wonderful meal.

Birthday #33: Lovely. E and I had some champagne on the porch at sunset, my favorite time of day in our yard. He gave me a beautiful red leather purse he found in Florence. We went out for dinner and drinks with friends, including The Other Robin, who shares my birthday as well as my name. We ended up at the Pirate's Club -- how could you not have fun at a place with a name like that? -- blowing noisemakers on the dance floor, surrounded by dozens of new PC volunteers fresh off the plane.

NaNoWriMo: I am not a winner. I think I would have made the 50,000 word goal by the deadline (today) if I didn't wake up with strep throat the day after my birthday. By last Wednesday I had over 37,000 words down. Thanksgiving I didn't do any writing, but I had planned on that; I could recover. Friday I pushed up to 38,701. Then I spent Saturday and Sunday horizontal, unconscious, feverish, and sore-throated. Monday, after I started taking antibiotics and feeling like myself again, I thought, write 11,300 words in three days? Not while working, packing, and moving, thankyouverymuch. Too bad, but I gave it a good shot. I'm not real broken up about it.

Packing & moving: I am writing this post from my Geekcorps boss' house. He is in Timbuktu for the next week and kindly letting us use his place as an office. We've shipped, packed, or given away everything we own. We'll make one last stop at our house today then move to the Hotel Mande, where the manager still insists we have a room, and that it will not be requisitioned by the government.

Apparently we're making that last stop at the house in about 10 minutes. Gotta run.