Monday, October 29, 2012


Dear Temple,
I hope this note finds you well and happy. I'm happy to be seeing you over Thanksgiving. It should be a good time. I'm going to be making a big meal. There is a great spice shop on main street and there is a maple brown sugar rub that will make that turkey taste very nice indeed. I love turkey, but nobody else in my family does. It's the only time of year I feel okay buying an eighteen pound bird that I'm going to eat myself. Not all at once, mind you. That would be piggish.
If my memory serves, you are a fan of turkey yourself. If you want some you better sit close to me. Your grandpa can put away a sizable amount of fowl himself. Here's the plan. We keep the bird close to us and have him sit at the other end of the table. We then make sure there are a bunch of starch-heavy, belly-busting side dishes that he will have to eat through to get to the meat. It will be a battle, but we shall overcome.
I took Elijah bowling while the boys were on their visit with their biological family on Sunday. It was a good time. I forgot what a cheap form of entertainment it was too. I found that I bowl how I handle most things in life. I whip the ball as hard as I can right down the line. I don't do that little crescent spin I see most avid bowlers doing. What happens is that I usually hit an easy strike or veer sharply left or right and knock down a single pin. I do everything with rampant gusto. It may look like I'm laid back, but that's just how I rampant gusto.
Elijah had a good time. Maybe we could go bowling when you're here. Maybe you hate bowling. Maybe that's the worst idea ever. Let me know.
I love you much and miss you always,
            Uncle Justin

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