Brant was awarded his black belt last night, cheer! (Also: freaking. finally.) Rolling with Brant is like rolling with melting butter: he waits for you to move, slides around, moves just a hair, and you are in a very bad place.
Blake (who moved here as a black belt) got his first stripe on his black belt. Hilariously, last night was also the night he had forgotten his own belt, so he instead got a stripe on a spare black belt.
Two guys, Finn and TR, also got their purples in a double-belt-smacking after a round (not rolling with each other, though I think Tim had kinda tried to make that happen while trying not to be too obvious. It did not work itself out, oh well.).
I took the whole of Thanksgiving week off, from Saturday to Saturday, to let injuries and bumps and bruises heal at least a little bit. Last night I felt every bite of those four pies and all the rest.