The Lost Thanksgiving Blog

We've been on Guam for two months now and have barely mentioned our most incredible hosts, The Skerritts. They met us, old school international style - waiting just outside the customs area, at the airport. They let us invade their home for two weeks as we finalized our rent and transportation issues, parking our laptops on the kitchen counter and dining room table during the day to scour for jobs and Guam gov. information. They let us borrow their truck (it doesn't screech when you start it and has a working odometer) and receive all sorts of mail at their house. They even let us house sit for an extra two weeks while they went to China to visit Zack, their son. We harassed their dog, Roxy, and they recommended me to a potential cabinet customer with a great view of Tumon. It's like we can do no wrong. After all that they invited us over for thanksgiving when it was us who should have been thanking, profusely. All we did was make pies.

There they are.
That's Mr. Steve Skerritt, hanging out.


That's Mrs. Jan Skerritt on the right. She's listening attentively to the duties for singing the 12 days of Christmas delegated to us by Don, who runs the Army Reserve for Guam. We were 2 turtle doves. She was the partridge in the pear tree.