(re-run)
I am having Thanksgiving at my house today for nine or ten people. I say that because my brother in law may or may not show up. There is lots of football to be missed if he comes ninety minutes north to my house. It will be me, my three kids, my two sisters, my niece and her hubby, and my nephew. The women will be in the majority, even if brother in law shows up.
The first stage of hosting Turkey Day dinner is getting the house cleaned. Cleaning is not a big priority in your 60’s. Who wants to waste time dusting when there are better things to do? Today I dusted like a crazy person, turning on all the lights full blast to make sure I didn’t miss any cobwebs. Many a granddaddy long legs was shocked that its long-term house in the corner was being swept away.
“I’ve been here for months. What’s the deal?”
The second step is going shopping for all of the food. There are two family members that won’t eat gluten, one pescatarian (so salmon, not turkey), one who can’t do spices (me), one who won’t east sentient animals, and the rest who will eat anything and everything. Even though the dinner is a three-way potluck, it’s still a lot of planning when you are the one doing the main stuff. I’ve been to Costco battling the crowds and Safeway twice. I still forgot the milk, buying buttermilk by mistake yesterday and forgetting again to get some on the last trip.
The third step is to set the table. For me that’s the most fun. If I could always set the table and let others do the rest, I would.
The fourth step is to cook all the food. That will be my job this a.m.
The fifth step is to sit down to eat and have conversation.
The sixth step is to clean up after everyone leaves. The trick is fitting the leftovers into the fridge.
One of my fave bands is breaking up after ten years. Last night they played at a local venue. I couldn’t miss the opportunity to dance and get some exercise and to say good-bye. It was a fun ride knowing them and dancing to their tunes.
You’ve got to put things into perspective. Thanksgivings come and go, but it’s the people and the music that you remember the most.
FIRST DATE, WORST DATE EVER! 