Thanksgiving; the holiday right before black friday!

Ah Thanksgiving.....I really love this day. The only anticipation is the delicious food and that can never go wrong. Birthdays and Christmas there is always the worry that the recipient of my gift may not like it, and the face ALWAYS lets me know if the person likes it or not. But that fourth Thursday in November is wonderful, laid back, and exquisitely perfect for the palate. Of course if you are a person in the kitchen stirring, mixing, sweating, chopping, measuring, stuffing, flutting, basting, carving, peeling, whipping, toasting, seasoning, jelling, arriving at a boiling point, then maybe this holiday is not for you~! But you see I am never asked to do any of the above... again... NEVER am I asked to do any of the above. In fact this year as I opened my e-mail marked Thanksgiving food assignments I was surprised, even shocked at how far down the cooking pole I had actually slid....I was asked to bring.....drum roll please....BUTTER! not rolls, jams, pies, vegetables, crackers, cranberries, cranberry juice, potatoes, stuffing, appetizers of any kind, just good, creamy, soon to be on sale at the market, BUTTER! And I was a bit miffed. I flashed off a reply to fellow family members asking them to please stop holding one cooking disaster against me.....A few years ago I was asked to bring the holiday pies to Thanksgiving. This family of my husband, who are all REALLY REALLY GOOD COOKS AND PERFECTIONISTS, had opened up their circle of fine cooking and had asked me to bake the pumpkin pies for our Thanksgiving feast. I was honored and humbled. I practiced for a few weeks in advance; my convection oven cooked faster than my convention oven, too much cinnamon was not a good thing, watch the speed of the mixer, let the crusts breathe, make the foil hats for the final 10 minutes of cooking and on and on and on....my own family had never had so many darn pies! We could not look at the moon for several weeks....Anyway the day arrived, my kitchen smelled heavenly; the Pilgrim Gods were pleased. Carefully we drove to Grandma's house over the cement rivers and through the pillared woods. I anxiously awaited dessert time....I do not think I even tasted the potatoes perfectly whipped with cream and garlic, the stuffing moist with pine nuts, the sauted vegetables, the warm from the oven rolls smathered with homemade raspberry jam. Then the moment of truth, the slicing of the satiny pumpkin pie. My expert cook sister in law gingerly placed a morsel on her fork, lifted it to her mouth, began the chewing process and then....bam it was out on her plate faster than the proverbial speeding bullet...ugg....I was in dismay, shock, humiliated and any other adjectives one could insert right about now....what had happened? Was she kidding me because she knew I was apprehensive about my cooking, was this some kind of a cruel joke? No....not at all and as kindly and concernedly (my word) as she could she told me the truth....the pie tasted as if it had been made without any sweetener.....NO FLIPPIN WAY! I grabbed her fork and took a taste of it myself and as fast as the again proverbial speeding bullet the food was out on my plate. I had indeed left out a key ingredient for pumpkin pie...the SUGAR! The pie was absolutely horrific. I was distraught, embarrassed (how is this word spelled?!) and wanted to dash out the door, when my kind sister - in - law took another fork and finished the piece of pie. Of course that was the only piece eaten and she was sick for the remainder of the evening (although she blamed in on the carrots.) So this year when I was given butter I realized the family can forgive but in a family of great cooks they cannot forget. So I get butter, ice, unwhipped cream, etc. Unfortunately they have warned my side of the family and my assignment for this year's Christmas party is soda pop. Actually I am beginning to think I am the winner....and I always have clean aprons....

How many reading this blog have ever, ever stumbled out of bed in the middle of night; in a befuddled bewilderment as to where the bathroom is in the dark; sideswipping the flipped off shoes that were left in the middle of the room instead of the closet because you were too lazy and or tired to place them on the beautifully installed shoe tree inside your closet door. (what, you do not have a beautifully installed shoe tree inside your closet door...hmmm neither do I but I do have a lovely mound of summer sandals, winter slip-ons, slippers for winter and autumn clogs mixed in with a couple of dust bunnies!) anyway you make your way in the misty darkness for the bathroom door, the cold tile only enhances the ache of the full bladder; you make yourself ready to sit on an also cold commode and BAM down down down you go....the problem SOMEONE HAS LEFT, IN UTTER DISREGARD FOR ANOTHER, THE TOILET SEAT UP! now it is amazing to me how a mere half inch of the toilet seat height can throw someone's balance off when sitting upon the toilet seat but when the lid is left up and one goes to sit and there is no seat one feels as if one has missed the toilet and is heading for disaster.....now the meat of my story is not really about bathroom issues (I have saved that for another time because man I do have bathroom issues) but the lead in to this story is just this....Height matters. I am a short person. I know exactly how far down I need to go for my cheeks to meet the seat. My balance is pretty accurate. After using personal and public (ONLY WHEN I ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO) bathrooms for a long time I have pretty good aim. (pun intended) (oh do I have stories on aiming.... I once opened the bathroom door only to find my five year old twins standing in the bathtub trying to arch their flow across the space between the tub and into the toilet. Neither of them made it by a loooong shot) anyway this brings me to my adventure. This year I dressed up in a Halloween costume of my own design which means if you were to ask me what I was I would have to answer I dunno! But I found a cool purple wig, a cool silver jacket, cool gray leggins and the perfect shoe to this perfect outfit was white platform sandals from 1974 - I talked my mom into letting me get them for my sister's wedding...three inches of pure styling heaven. I loved wearing those shoes back in '74, '75, '76 and part of '77...skirts, pants, shorts, gauchos, I looked hot. Well I have never looked hot but I did look lukewarm and that was enough for me! After the shoes went out of style, and even I began to make fun of others still wearing the stilts, my thought was HEY costume closet. Who could someday resist the opportunity to dress like an idiot from the 70's. not me! So I tucked those shoes away for perfect costume and this year with my purple wig I wore those puppies to the office party. Boosted by those three inches I was now a whopping 5'5...not only was I tall I could also see the thick layer of dust on one of my shelves....uck! anyway this story is not about my lack of housecleaning skills (although I do lack them, see above mention of closet floor) but about my adventures at my office halloween party. As a normal part of the day I had to use the restroom. I was feeling very happy as I thoroughly enjoy Halloween. I excused myself to use the bathroom; well I did not really excuse myself because I try not bring a lot of attention to myself, especially when I am using the bathroom and wearing a purple wig with a silver jacket, and gray leggins. I prepared myself to go to the lavoratory and all of a sudden as I started to sit down and down and down even further I let out a bit of a scream, toppled to one side; "oh no" I thought "in about 1 second I am going to be crashing to the floor of a public bathroom because I have lost my balance because....SOME IDIOT LEFT THE TOILET SEAT UP" AND I DID NOT KNOW I WAS GOING TO HAVE TO GO LOWER EVEN A HALF AN INCH LOWER AND MY ELBOW CAUGHT THE COUNTER, MY WIG FISHED AROUND IN FRONT OF MY FACE. MY THOUGHT WAS THAT THE PARAMEDICS would have to break down the door, my grey leggins would be around my ankles, my silver jacket twisted around my waist with my purple wig blanketing my purple face and my three inch heels well I do not know where the three inch heels would end up....I frantically steadied myself, flustered, upset at the rudeness of the employees of this company. And then I thought.....hmmm this is the ladies bathroom and while ladies in this office may use the men's bathroom, men on the other hand dare not to enter into the women's bathroom. And a quick check proved my theory correctly...the seat had not been left up; the cause of my near horrific halloween scare was dah dah dah dah duh...MY STUPID THREE INCH HEELS! MY BALANCE HAD BEEN THROWN OFF BECAUSE I WAS NOW THREE INCHES TALLER AND I HAD TO SINK LOWER FOR MY REAR TO MAKE CONTACT THUS THROWING ME OFF MY GUARD, CRUSHING MY ELBOW, LOSING MY PURPLE DOO AND LETING OUT A MONSTROUS SCREAM. So much for being stylish and cool...( mother this is why I never took a liking to high heels! ) I readied myself, grateful that minimal damage had taken place; flushed the toilet with my foot, turned the water on with my good elbow, adjusted all that needed adjusting and as I moved to leave the bathroom I realized that the paramedics would not have had to break the door down to help me in my disaster....I had FORGOTTEN TO LOCK IT. xo Jane