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I hope my US friends all had a good Thanksgiving. I didn't make everything I planned to and could barely get through what I had prepared. I'm not as fat as I was a couple years ago and (excuse the pun) thankfully can't eat as much. I feel full enough this morning from last evening that I may skip lunch.
Anyway, happy Stay-At Home-Friday! I hope many of you get to celebrate by avoiding Black Friday. I always had to work the day after Thanksgiving, which was usually just as well. When I was a kid my mother wouldn't shop on Black Friday, but would pick some other Friday evening between Thanksgiving and Christmas to go to the local major shopping mall so we kids could buy our presents. Utter nightmare. It wasn't so bad at the places where I actually wanted to buy something. But we always had to go to the anchor department store first before we split up, because that was where my mother and sister wanted to shop. In those dark days before suburban bookstores, it was also the only place I could buy a book for someone. The book section was busy, but not insane. Passing through any clothing section was always a challenge. The things that had the biggest discounts were obvious; piles of clothing every which way from people hunting for the few items left that would fit a living human being. To get out you had to ride the escalators with more people than were in the whole store on an average weekday afternoon in the nine months between New Years and Thanksgiving. Why anyone who experienced it, or experiences it now, didn't hate crowds thereafter is a mystery to me.
Anyway, happy Stay-At Home-Friday! I hope many of you get to celebrate by avoiding Black Friday. I always had to work the day after Thanksgiving, which was usually just as well. When I was a kid my mother wouldn't shop on Black Friday, but would pick some other Friday evening between Thanksgiving and Christmas to go to the local major shopping mall so we kids could buy our presents. Utter nightmare. It wasn't so bad at the places where I actually wanted to buy something. But we always had to go to the anchor department store first before we split up, because that was where my mother and sister wanted to shop. In those dark days before suburban bookstores, it was also the only place I could buy a book for someone. The book section was busy, but not insane. Passing through any clothing section was always a challenge. The things that had the biggest discounts were obvious; piles of clothing every which way from people hunting for the few items left that would fit a living human being. To get out you had to ride the escalators with more people than were in the whole store on an average weekday afternoon in the nine months between New Years and Thanksgiving. Why anyone who experienced it, or experiences it now, didn't hate crowds thereafter is a mystery to me.