Hood River, Oregon

The history of the Thanksgiving seems rather a random excuse for a holiday, and it seems to me it might have been better to hold this big turkey-fest further away in the calendar from the Christmas turkey-fest, but hey, what do I know?

Despite that fact that the celebration is somewhat anti-English (the Pilgrim Fathers left England to escape religious persecution) I’m not one to turn down an invitation to party, so I joined some friends in Hood River for Thanksgiving Dinner last night. Great, high-calorie fun was had by all.

I went to work it all off on the racquetball court this morning. Yet another new sport – my fifth in four weeks. Sharla and I were about as hopeless as each other, especially both were feeling rather the worse for wear after last night’s celebrations.

We ran around the court like lunatics, occasionally even hitting the ball. Sharla also scored a direct, eye-watering hit on my nose. 60 minutes later we were both exhausted, sweaty wrecks, but we’d had a great workout, and an hour’s training never passed so quickly.

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