Giving Thanks

The Night Before.

This is how we start Thanksgiving...Wednesday night with the Monsons (you'll notice the Wild Ones are missing...we won't see them for the next 48 hours). That is about the most traditional thing you will see when the turkeys get cooked at my house. Family, games and cocktails.

On the menu this year...two 15 pound turkeys, shallot and spicy sausage stuffing, garlic and asiago mashed potatoes, brussels sprouts sauteed with bacon, caramelized onions and gorgonzola cheese, swiss corn and roasted root and green veggies and multi-grain ciabatta buns all served with slices of pumpkin, apple, blueberry and lemon pie and one chocolate cheesecake. A little red and white wine to top it all off and all should be happy. Throw in a round of pool, some ping pong and some very verbal board games and you got what closely resembles a perfect day. 

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you and your families...gobble gobble.

Where's my book?

      

The setting: The day before Thanksgiving, 24 people coming for dinner. Chairs need recovering, strange man hanging sheet rock in the mudroom,  3 Wild Ones out of school...day 5...and a house that needs a deep cleaning. One Disgruntled Princess wandering around the house (yep the dirty one) looking under cushions, behind dressers and in the corners of the closets.

The Big Guy: "Whatcha doin"?

Disgruntled Princess: "Looking for a book."

TBG: "What book?"

DP: "My book." Duh.

TBG: "Really?" Duh "What's the name of your book?"

DP: "It's just a book, not a big deal."

TBG: "Then why are you tearing the house apart if it's 'No big deal'?"

DP: "Just something I wanted to read today."

TBG: (Rolling his eyes) "What's the book about?"

DP: (Hiding my eyes)... "Procrastination."

Your Secret is Safe with Me.

Last week I was invited to "sub" for a Bunko game. I knew the host and the other "sub" who invited me so I assumed I would know some other ladies there and if they knew me they wouldn't care that I had never played before. Well I didn't recognize a single set of eyes in the joint and they still didn't care...that's when I first decided I liked this group of gals and would try my best not to run off with all their money/prizes. Turns out I didn't have to try very hard...after winning the first 7 rounds I pretty much marked my spot at the losers table (actually I signed my name in a big L I scribbled on the table cloth...yes it was paper-I do have a few manners...every time I lost another round). So there were cocktails, food, friends and fun...just what people say happens at Bunco and what they don't say stays at Bunko (wink, wink). Now that you know I am a good loser (and can keep a secret...kind of)..."subs" anyone?

Day 3 of 9.

Days one and two were filled with playdates, sleepovers, movies, dinners out and building stuff outside. Day three: conferences, grocery shopping and lots of fussing. I was thrilled to drop them off with the Big Guy for 60 minutes of peace (with my therapist). I almost skipped to the elevators with visions...and giggles... of what havoc they must be reeking in the Big Guy's office. I stood in front of the elevators (which are usually quite timely) waiting patiently (remember I was alone) when I discovered that I had been pushing my car remote to call the lift (hey I was aiming it at the doors). I did the quick look around, complete with low whistle and reached out for the real button hoping that the only cameras they have are inside the elevators. Then I promptly steered my sweet ride to the nearest liquor store and ordered myself a case of "mommy juice."

Rumor has it...

Leave it to a bored housewife and her crazy friend to stir things up a bit. Earlier in the week, I dropped my grocery getter off at the "shop" where they were to have a loaner waiting. I think the Big Guy had a misunderstanding with the owner of the fix it place because when I got there all they had waiting for me was a loser (and I really mean that in the nicest of ways). As in a friend of ours who was hanging out (and whom I think they were trying to get rid of) with time on his hands and an almost empty front seat.  

So "Elvis" offers to give me a ride home in his white suburban...all he has to do is move his "tools" and a few left over kid snacks (which I am sure were aimed at the back of his head by the tiny offspring that he carts to daycare each morning). We got about half way to our destination when we had a brilliant idea and abruptly changed our course. We decided we absolutely had to do a "loop" through town to see how many people we could  be seen by...yep that's right...we wanted people to see us together in the middle of the day...alone...did I mention together? We thought this was so hilarious (perhaps we should spruce up our resumes, we obviously have too much time on our hands) that I laughed so hard I almost wet my pants...I didn't worry, I figured I could blame it on one of the tiny ones I mentioned earlier. We made sure our route included a stop at his house (with plenty of time inside) to check out a few things (I know it just keeps getting better).

Before our journey left me at my own doorstep (an hour and a half later), we managed to pass, wave to and even talk to several people. Now we just sit back and see how long it takes the rumor mill to scatter it's first press release. Stay tuned...

I'm Doing It.

Arriving soon at your (actually my) neighborhood thrift store...all the stuff I have been collecting for years (and the Big Guy and his mother...I mean their stuff, not them...hmmm). I have been sorting and sifting and hauling through all my sh*#, and some lucky hoosier is going to be able to take it home and make it part of their collection of sh*#. Don't get me wrong, this is nice sh*#, I just don't own three homes any more and I want to trade my storage room for a craft room (I may give the Big Guy a corner for some tools, but I'm gonna paint the wall a pretty color and make him keep it organized) and my over stuffed closets for some clean air space. 

I spent the entire day yesterday going through closets and boxes (not even half way done) and when the Big Guy got home (carting some yummy take out) I asked him if he was dying to help. He got a big grin on his face (I'm pretty sure it was forced) and said that was exactly what he wanted to do. It was going well until he  started seeing things he hadn't seen in a while and was digging deep to come up for new uses for them. I had to get a little tough with him at this point, after all we were down there to purge not resurrect. By the end he was as brutal as I was and now today I am left with piles that reach the ceiling of sh*# to be hauled to the curb and to the thrift stores-I hope the Big Guy is not buried under neath it. So if you're looking for some good cheap sh*# to call your own head on down to the Goodwill or the Salvation Army...you're not just helping me out, you're contributing to society (and you never know, you just may find that thing you never knew you needed).

I know you are probably tired of hearing me talk about living out in the boon docks (and frankly, so I am...sometimes), but this was so cool. I don't usually get so excited about deer...well maybe I do. We have a herd of about 12 that visit us regularly and I have been know to stand on dining room chairs and whisper yell for the kids to come running..."Oh, it's just Bunsie standing on the chair again freaking out about the deer we see every day," and off they run. Sometimes they humor me...if there is nothing better going on. But today was different...really. I rolled the long legged Wild One down to the bus (yes I drive her the 1/4 mile...I didn't want my hair to freeze...I've got a good, different excuse for every day) and I poked my head out the window to wave at Sandy (the bus driver, not the chipmunk...some of you will know who I am talking about) and holler goodbye to the bleary eyed middle schooler-still my job to try to embarrass her...until someone assigns me another role-and I see a deer standing in the street behind the bus. Now this was not an ordinary deer and it was not in the herd. It was watching me (perhaps taking notes on how to embarrass the young). Finally it winked (it's way of saying, "Thank you," I think) and sauntered off down the road...and right up my driveway. Well of course I had to follow it...I was going that way anyway. I stopped at the bend in the asphalt and there it was, in the brush on the edge of the corn field (no sky scrapers to block our view...said with a sigh of longing) about 10 feet away from me. Now that is what I call a hunters dream...and I wanted to shoot so badly I was salivating (stay with me here). It meandered off and I slowly coasted toward my front door. I ran inside and tripped over a 100 pound Lab. I was shaking and I could see the buck heading for my back yard, did I mention that it was a 12 point buck?! I saw each and every point myself...why do you think I was shaking and tripping over furry things? Well I grabbed my weapon and wrestled Rotten for use of the back door. By this time the stud was nearing the back 80 and almost out of my range. I did the best I could and now I have another item to add to my Christmas list...a stronger telephoto lens for my Nikon.

What's the Warning?

Red sky at night, Sailor's delight...Red sky in the morning, Sailors take warning. This is what I saw this morning as I took the oldest Wild One to the bus (much more red and much more spectacular in person...I think I missed the height of it, it was that or miss the bus. I should have missed the bus as I have to drive to school to drop off her forgotten shoes anyway...might as well have taken her too). 

A similar verse was used by Shakespeare in "Venus and Adonis," "Like a red morn that ever yet betokened, Wreck to the seaman, tempest to the field, Sorrow to the shepherds, woe unto the birds, Gusts and fowl flaws to herdmen and to herds." And also in the Bible (Matthew XVI: 2-3,) Jesus said, "When in evening, ye say, it will be fair weather: For the sky is red. And in the morning, it will be foul weather today; for the sky is red and lowering." Bet you never thought you'd hear me quoting the Bible...or Shakespeare...just a little something I pulled off the top of my head.

The red sunrise is actually a reflection of the dust particles of a system that has already passed from the west, which means that a storm system is moving to the east. The deep red indicates a high water content in the atmosphere and likely hood that you will want to pack your umbrella even if the sky looks delectable. 

Whew...had to get at least one intellectual blog in before the end of the year...I think the quotes helped...now go be helpful and pass along this tasty morsel of trivia...and make it sound like you've know it all along...remember it's Shakespeare and the Bible.

Everyone's a Winner.

I'm sure I'd be saying that even if Orono had won (not really, but maybe). This is the first time in Orono's history that our football team has gone this far. A perfect season...until Friday...at "The Dome" in front of thousands of people. No matter...we are proud of the team and the coach who got them there. The Wild Ones got to skip school, the Big Guy played hooky from work and we made a day of it. We started at the school gathering posters and spreading cheer...we waited at Caribou for the fire and police escort through town...we lunched at Maxwell's (an Orono family owned watering hole)...cheered wildly and loudly with the other red and blue crazies...and then shut down the Rooster with some old and new friends. Way to go Spartans!!! We're looking forward to next year!

Back to a Simpler Life.

I just want to declutter. Give away the toys sitting on the shelves, the books gathering dust and the cute clothes that I am sure I will wear soon...but don't. The clothes we've outgrown and the equipment (skis, skates, lifejackets) that no longer fit. They seem to good to not sell, but there is hope that someone who needs them will be able to have them (versus someone who buys them for a steal and then sells them to the highest bidder on ebay). 

I scoff at people who fly to New York and buy a new wardrobe for each season and throw out the old. But, in reality I do the same thing...on a much smaller scale...at discount stores and on odd trips each week throughout the season...only it doesn't seem like I have a new wardrobe when I buy one piece at a time...so I never get rid of the old stuff. Maybe I need to start tagging along on those New York shopping sprees.

Every room and every surface in every room of my house is filled with stuff. As I go through each room and try to get rid of things this voice in my head tells me something about each thing. "Those are the bandanas you are going to wear to the state tournament tomorrow and I am sure the kids will want to wear them to school after that, or you can tie them around your head when you clean the house and remember the Spartan's win," "That is the cookie jar the wee Wild One got for his birthday...and he colored it himself," (note to self: buy...I mean...make cookies for the cookie jar) "MIL gave me these dishes and they remind her of her grandmother in San Fransisco...isn't that cool," (for her!) "You really need a coat (and shoes!) in every color and every style...you never know what you will get invited to," (and I'll have the perfect outfit to go with them...if I can just find it in the piles of clothes stuffed in all my closets).

If anyone knows where the switch is to turn off that voice or has some extra duct tape let me know...I am still fighting for that simple life.

Girls Have Fantasies Too.

When the weather is cold and grey and snowy and you really would rather be out on the boat...just think roaring fire, cold drinks and great friends (but not too many drinks).

It's About That Time of Year...Again.

OK it started before Halloween...the stores were scaling back on the creepy masks and sneaking out the artificial trees. I don't like to even think about those red and green decorations until after Thanksgiving (of course it would have been smart to put up the outside lights last week when it was still OK to be outside for more that three minutes with out icicles hanging off the end of you nose). So for those of you who deck the house the first day of November...what are you going to do after Thanksgiving? Of course then maybe you don't have to decorate for Thanksgiving, but you do have to look at the dancing Santa's (I assume if you are into decorating the day after Halloween that you DO have a dancing Santa...somewhere) and sparkly snowflakes while you eat your turkey. Do what you must, but if I receive your Christmas Card before the first of December (and PLEASE not before Thanksgiving!) I will have to toss it in a pile to be opened (and hopefully not lost) once the calendar strikes 12...unless I think there may be money in it and then...I will save it for the 25th.

Going to the Dentist.

Just a friendly little visit to the dentist...but the second time recently that I was rendered speechless. The wee Wild One was sitting in the chair waiting for the dentist to come back in when the hygienist started asking him questions. She wanted to know what his favorite food is. Well that's easy, everyone knows it's "green noodles," but he has to clarify for the hygienist who doesn't understand, "You know the Pesto Cavatappi from Green Noodles?" She continues to question whether he ever gets to eat that at home. He seems a little exasperated by her, but says that we sometimes eat it at home with tortellini or ravioli, but that at home we mostly just eat "alcohol sauce." Now, I know what he means and you may know what he means, but she looked horrified...and when I couldn't speak it looked even worse. I am not a blusher and when you read about people in books whose necks and faces grow bright red when they are embarrased it just doesn't make sense to me. Now it does. I felt the heat climb up my neck, then slowly up my face (I shouldn't have been so embarrassed, I should have been worried about a call from child services). About the time the heat hit my forehead, I started mumbling about the "Vodka Sauce" we eat on our pasta. I just kept talking really fast and she looked at me and said, "Yeah that sounds good, I'll have to look for that next time I go to the store." I'm sure she will...just before she makes that call to social services.

Work Hard, Play Hard...Fight Hard?

But not necessarily in that order. We packed up the kids and headed north this weekend...and took the cold weather with us. No matter, we just bundled up and made the best of it...along with a dozen forest fires. Friday night we started with a couple of cocktails (and some dinner) and then a couple more cocktails (thank God the Wild Ones can take care of themselves...we don't see much of them when the cousins are around) and instead of playing games like we usually do, we started talking. Now I have been around these people for the last 40 years and why we felt the need to "talk" is beyond me. There was screaming, swearing and another round of drinks. We all pretty much wanted to send the others out to the woods to find a log for the fire and secretly hope that Sasasquatch was out there waiting for them. We wrapped it up around 3am with kids and grandparents asleep in various odd places.  We woke to beautifully falling snow, put on our work gloves and worked out our aggressions. We started a few more fires (the old fashioned way...boy scout juice). Flamingo and Mango even came out to play. When the sun went down we went inside for a glass of "argument juice," but instead of talking...we played games.

Playing Hooky.

Yesterday I did something that I don't do often enough...I skipped out on all of my duties, headed north and spent the day with my cousin (the cute blond in the middle). It was a bit of a road trip as it is almost an hour...I'm still trying to figure out why we all choose to live in the boondocks.

So we were sitting at her kitchen table sipping our coffee (none of your business if we added anything to it) and covering all topics of girl talk when she got up to answer the phone. She was talking sweetly to whomever was on the other end when I saw (from the corner of my eye) her reach into a drawer and grab a hand gun...yep, silver and black about 8" long. Hmm...wasn't quite prepared for that. I tried not to stare as she walked to the front door, pulled it open (I couldn't see her at this point, but I'm pretty sure she cocked the gun-do you even do that with a hand gun?) and shot right out the front door. She came walking back around the corner (off the phone) with a sneaky little grin on her face. I tried to narrow my eyes back to a normal diameter, but I think she caught on to the fact that I was a little freaked out.  Turns out it was a BB gun and she was aiming at the squirrels raiding her bird feeders...good thing for the furry critters that her aim was a bit off. Now I know why we live in the Boondocks...and what I am going to put on my Christmas list.

Where Were You?

We all know where we were on 9.11 and some of you are old enough (and I don't mean that as a jab...really) to know where you were when Kennedy was shot. This is big...this is HUGE. Where were you when Obama...the first African American...was elected President of the United States of America? Most people I know were out to dinner, drinking at a bar with a million TVs or at a party with friends. Me? I was at home snuggled on the couched, draped in Wild Ones (all eyes glued to CNN) solving math problems and editing book reports...watching history unfold. Sometimes things just fall into place.   

Just Do It!

I am not going to tell you who to vote for or try to sway you to my side, I just want to remind you to vote.  I am actually a registered republican who just can't take it any more. If Elizabeth Hasselbeck is not enough to push you over the edge then these two should...I mean...please look at all the issues and decide who best represents your ideals and your families future. And if you're hankerin' for a hot cup of Joe then head on over to your favorite (or second fav if you are a Caribou fan) coffee shop to trade a peek at your "I VOTED" sticker for a free cup of muddy water. Go ahead, make me proud...and if you just can't do it my way...hell, vote anyway, but just remember my vote may knock yours out of the water. Coffee anyone?

Halloween Advice.

Advice for those of you that travel to neighborhoods or go far distances from home on foot. Remember this: use the bathroom before you leave and do not consume huge volumes of liquid while out trick-or-treating. We had made it about half way around our loop when I realized that the industrial sized drink that the Big Guy brought for me (and I had consumed the entire thing) had gone straight through me. Thank goodness we had hit a patch of homes at a dark intersection where no one was home...or perhaps they were just hiding inside with the lights off watching all the crazies go by. Regardless, I found a bush by a dark fence and dropped trou. Yes, it was that bad and I had to...really I did. I started to freak when a car was coming around the corner right at me, but the Big Guy assured me I was fine...he was looking the other way. I yanked my pants up and ran out into the street. The Wild Ones came running from across the street and the little one asked me what I was doing in the bushes. I tried to change the subject, but his voice just got louder. 

Devil: "Were you peeing in the bushes?" 

Old Lady:  "Me? Nooo. I thought someone dropped something in there." 

Devil:  "No you were peeing, I could see you."

Old Lady:  (Glaring at the Big Guy) "Hey is that a vampire behind that tree?"

The devil just rolled his eyes at me and ran off to investigate. So the next time you plan on trick-or-treating far away from home don't let anyone give you a cauldron of liquid to drink along the way and if you see anyone in the bushes just assume they dropped some candy and keep on walking.

Halloween 2008