more sketches, same process

...And it's easy to see which stage I'm at in each drawing, just by looking.

The middle sketch, that's me and my sister. It's taken from a photograph from 1974, with some details deleted, like my sister's cat-eye glasses and our foster sister in pink hair rollers and our cousin in a halter top and burgundy bell bottom jeans, or how the four of us looked like a ragtag gang of Irish orphans. I even had my arms crossed like Robert DeNiro ("You talkin' to me?")

The scene I drew out is much more serene.

But I'm baking right now. Isn't everybody? Homemade noodles and raisin cream pies and, in the morning, I'll make two or three batches of rolls. Breads and pastries seem to be my specialty, every year.

Everywhere I've gone today people have been saying to me, "You have a happy holiday, now," like this is the first Thanksgiving the country's ever celebrated. I don't remember people saying that to me so pointedly in years past. I just nod and say, "Thanks. You too," with nowhere near enough reciprocal enthusiasm.

I don't know why I feel so tired this time, this year. I just feel unusually exhausted. This whole day it's been all I could do just to stay awake.