Daddy-Daughter Ball

Again this year, Sophie was barely able to wait till "Daddy-Daughter Ball" (said in a serious Valley Girl accent).  Everything she talked about was in relation to the event, somehow.  I would say, "And I'll take you all to church in the morning," to which she'd respond something like, "Oh, but Daddy-Daughter Ball is in the night, not in the morning, like church."  Seriously, this went on for WEEKS!

And again this year, the child had a very special time with her now-beloved papA.  (Do you remember when she was petrified of Rob five years ago?  Hitting him, screaming if he came near her!  Such a long way we've come, thank God!)

It has been suggested that we name our house M___ Manor.  During last week's sermon, it occurred to me to name it The Lighthouse.  But, The Revolving Door, although it sounds like a British pub, probably makes the most sense.  Yowzers!  (That's a tired, but happy yowzers.)

Last night, I had the pleasure of meeting don J___, my oldest "daughter's" father.  It was very special.  For the occasion, I decided to make an almost-traditional Thanksgiving dinner, as it was the most United Statesian food of which I could think.

So, Diana offered her (mother's) services to make dessert, a favorite, arroz con leche.

Oh, yes, that is her mother, in Colombia, on the phone, telling her how much butter to add!

And then I had to use Girumy's services, to mix the mix and form the turkey loaf.

That wink was all him!

Finally, our ever-changing family straggled in and we had a lovely evening!  Thank God for these friends!

Absent: don Nacho