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Earl called late Wednesday night to say he was busy "monogramming the napkins," which of course, was a joke. His real housecleaning philosophy was better summed up in his later quote, "It's good to have people over every few months, so you'll vacuum." He announced that we would have 13 seated for dinner.

"Like the Last Supper?" I inquired.

"...." Earl paused. "Oooo, I get to be Judas!"

"Uh, Judas didn't end well."

"Yeah, but he got all the best songs in Jesus Christ Superstar!!!"

Lance and Brian sent a frantic email message early Thanksgiving morning. "Who has rum??? We need rum!! We'll do anything for rum!!!!!!"

Gus and I had showered and made ourselves beautiful by about 3 pm. I shoveled my slow-cooked Swedish meatballs into some fake tupperware, and gathered up the chocolate liqueur and doggie bones for later, for the human and non-humand guests, and we took off for Earl's. I told Gus that Earl wanted to be Judas for our Last Supper Thanksgiving. "He got all the best songs in Jesus Christ Superstar!" Gus averred.

Lance and Brian were already there, working furiously in the kitchen. So was Seana, who urged us to sample her traditional sushi appetizers. Gus got to meet Buster, Earl's new doggie. Lance and Brian, who had by this time secured ample stores of rum, offered us hot buttered rum, which they served with healthy dollops of whipped cream. (By the end of the evening, Brian had dispensed with the rum drinks, and was mainlining whipped cream.) Slowly but surely, more guests, and more and more food arrived, crowned by Joe and Chris and the turkey. Earl, a fan of sharp objects, set to slicing the turkey, whilst the guests absorbed yet more alcohol. Someone had opened bottles of pinot noir and petit syrah, which I sampled generously.

Besides turkey, the spread included my Swedish meatballs, whipped potatoes, candied yams, stuffing, spicy yams, scalloped potatoes, rolls, two types of relish, and more alcohol. Earl announced that he chooses his friends based strictly on their cooking abilities. And then just as we reached the bursting point, we were presented with three choices for desert: chocolate cake, some kind of pie and tiramisu, the latter provided by a friendly Belgian couple who Joe and Chris had invited. We then cajoled Andy to mix up a batch of his famous chocolate martinis, shaken not stirred.

Seana reluctantly left, and a bit later, so did Joe and Chris and their guests. The survivors, and Scott, who had wandered in late, sat down for a hotly contested game of Cranium. Well, except for me and my buddy Buster, who retired to the couch for a comfy nap. My husband later chided me, "You should have seen me, I was really good at sculpting in clay!" Ah, what an Ivy League education will do for you. On our way out the door, the ever resourceful Scott presented each guest with a shopping emergency kit, consisting of a paper bag full of spicy chocolate cookies. Yum!