Honest Scrap: Thanksgiving Edition

This is an award. An award posing as a meme with all the meme attachments. As is my usual custom, I will pass on the some of the special conditions. Though I do consider all the blogs I read award worthy. I will comply with the special condition of listing 10 facts . My twist as the title indicates, these facts as are related to Thanksgiving 2009 at Deborah's Place.
1. "This place is a zoo!" When son moved out three years ago there weren't any pets. He spent Thursday and Friday nights (the first sleep-over since his move) and while he wasn't surprised by the presence of the fur-babies, he was surprised by their (primarily Buttah's)attachment to him. My son, we've discovered, is not a cat person. He was relatively good-natured about it though. Still, the second night Buttah had to have his nocturnal roaming curtailed, just a bit.

2. Maneuvering about the (small) kitchen with a grey dog and orange cat constantly under-foot hoping for accidental drops added a layer of challenge to the day.

3. Speaking of challenge: My Mother vs. My Daughter. ::sigh::

4. However, 2 glasses of wine, 2 vodka martinis, and a tequila/rum margarita did not hamper my peacekeeper/maker capabilities. In fact, may have even helped.

5. A "Happy Thanksgiving" call from a new acquaintance was a rather nice surprise.

6. And "Happy Thanksgiving" (and more) text messages from a dear, dear friend resulted in warm fuzzy feelings.

7. I forgot the mashed taters and gravy. Hi-ever, no one seemed to notice (or care).

8. Though not quite my kryptonite, homemade mac n cheese is most def, da bomb!

9. 'Tis a fact, mom mis-remembers events from my childhood. It was older brother not younger who crashed into a parked car with his bike, suffering an injury that required stitches to his left ear.

10. In addition "remember when . . ." talk, dinner convo included my revelation. I answered the question she hasn't (or refused) to ask. Due to the emotions of the day (see mom vs daughter note above) she was not up to discussing it much then and because of a visit from that Aunt (& the cramps she rode in on) a surprise after many, many (ok, maybe just one many, but still, a while) months, I have not up to discussing it much since. But, more talk will ensue, of this I am sure.

Still, the news (good, all good) is out and so (step-by-step) am I.

The Eyes Had It

Diva dog isn't wild about the grooming process. And as a result the process is usually managed over several days. Depending on where she is in the process (or where Danielle started) you might see the right side shaved but the left relatively shaggy.

Or to see her body hair sheared to a respectable length while her legs look like she's wearing furry boots. Diva dog is particularly antsy about her legs being touched, for even more that the clippers and scissors she. does. not. like. her. nails. cut.

Many months ago, on the bad advice of someone of little consequence now, Danielle sheared Diamond the Diva dog nearly bald. That looked horrible. Much of the Diva's character was being swept into a trash bag.

Shameful. Even Diamond seemed to know how badly she'd fared that time. Perhaps why she puts up a bit more of a fuss when the shears come out. I think she was in day 3 of a recent progressive grooming cycle when this pic was snapped.

Her face, especially around the eyes, is usually the last round.

Every few weeks when it's time for the grooming cycle to begin and we try to push D-dog through too many cycles in a single day I think about Truvy's comment about "nobody wanting a full day of beauty".

Certainly not our little Diamond in the ruff.

Spread Out

Photo Via

For a variety of reasons, I had a fleeting notion of not hosting a Thanksgiving feast this year. But then I changed my mind. The spread kinda sorta planned won't be anything terribly elaborate and the guest list will be short; only be mom, son, me, and possibly daughter (& her boyfriend). She mentioned wanted to experience the day with the boyfriend and his family. Apparently, fried fish is in the mix. She fears however, that if she isn't there to stake her claim to my fixins' she'll be s.o.l. as Michael will eat his fill then be offered to-go tubs as is the usual tradition. Of course, she needn't worry.

I haven't been feeling particularly festive lately, which I guess is part of why I decided to host the gathering. We have each faced some piercing and far-reaching challenges this year and in recent weeks, particularly. And I suppose, all the more reason to gather together. I've been feeling like we are each on the verge of some major changes and not all of them positive, necessarily.

For a variety of reasons, I have been feeling like we won't have too many more all-together festive gatherings. And I suppose, all the more reason to gather together this time, as often as we can and make (and take) the best of each experience.

Odd, But Not

On the work voice-mail this week: Deb? this is Joanie . Hey, did you change your e-mail address again? You haven't responded to my e-mail. Stella and I are getting worried about you. CALL ME at xxx-xxx-xxxx, right away. Let me know you're OKAY.

WDDD?

I don't know what possessed me to pick up the land line at home. I so very rarely do anything quite so risky. But, I did and on the other end, a sales/tele-marketing person? Nooooo, a ghost from the past. A former supervisor. And while he made all the hey, how are you, the kids, and all noises, the real purpose for the call was to find another of our group. They apparently had kept in better touch since the business dealings forced our separation. but recently seemed to have lost touch. He wondered if I knew anything, had heard anything. I didn't. I don't. I hadn't.

She and I hadn't been in contact for quite awhile now as she never seemed interested in any real cultivation of friendship. She had become one of those kind of e-mailers and has long since fallen off my radar. Obviously, I don't wish her any ill will and I told our former boss that I'd see what I could find out. I checked a few data-bases to no avail.

This has been a week for calls from past lives. Another former co-worker, going back much further than the decade or so the former boss represents, called my office line. She and I were friends and we'd kept in touch for a time after she left the company in '86? '87? Anyhoo, she said, "guess who this is?" And while I nearly said her name, I reacted as if I had no clue. The voice had a familiar ring but was tinged with time, leaving it slightly altered from that which I'd stored in memory.

We talked, laughed back and forth as if no time at all had elapsed. Fun, that. Continuing on this path will fill me with much glee.

So, this week worth of calls has been a mixed bag. To have heard from each of this entities in the span of 5 days after having not heard from them (Joanie's emails aside) in years, decades is the kind of thing my mom would have looked up in her numerology book toward finding lottery numbers to play, when she was into that sort of thing.

Any hidden meanings in the confluence of events? I don't know, but they certainly added some additional twists to an already twisty week. For all the calls I did get there are a few I didn't.

Dear friends, please know you're on my mind and in my heart. ♥

Meno Mean ?

Probably should have just said yes to something, anything. But offer after offer, all I could say was, "no thank you." Mom offers me things; food, ugly (and a size too large) clothing, a variety of household goods she's gotten from others, and more. At one time I accepted these things to be nice. Most of the items got donated elsewhere, while a good faith effort was made to eat the food.

But some time ago I stopped accepting the items. Much of the food my mom prepares these days don't fit my own dietary requirements or tastes. As for the other items, I have enough of my own (and daughter's) accumulated shit overflow goods that I just don't have the room to store more prior to the haul (or rather series of hauls) to various donation outlets.

So, I turned down her flurry of offers in what I thought was a kindly and courteous manner. Mom sighed, "well, I don't know what I can offer you." To which I replied, "you don't have to offer me anything." To which she queried, "is it the menopause that makes you mean?"

Well, gee as I don't think I am mean I'd have to say no, me + meno doesn't = mean. But hey, maybe I'm coming off in a way I don't intend.

I shall be commissioning a study. I shall keep you posted as to the results.

Photo Credit

Wrap Up

It was not my plan to go to Navy Pier . I got a later start for my journey to the downtown theatre showing Precious as the result, I missed the 2:00 pm showing. The pier being only a few blocks further east presented as an obvious (inexpensive) choice to burn some time before the next showing.

I eased into the morning, day with a light breakfast and a couple of cups of coffee after which I got myself together to go do a load of laundry. The laundry mat I use is a bit over a mile away. I decided to take advantage of the pleasant start to the day and bike it on down there.

About a third of the way I experience some sinking feeling. I pat my pockets for my keys.

No keys. Gone. Shit!

Every single time I wear one of several pair of cargo shorts, I forget to put the keys in the cargo pockets. I use the slant pockets, which aren't very deep. I hear the clang as they hit the ground, but I don't register the clang, as the clang of my keys. Until I'm several blocks away and that sinking feeling prompts me to pat the pockets.

Backtrack. Heart racing, hoping they are on the ground, still. Not much time as passed, so hope is high. But, still. I detest losing keys. AND there isn't anyone home but the fur babies. They can't retrieve the spares and throw them down to me. AND there weren't any open windows even if any one of them COULD locate and collect the spare keys.

I miss them on the first pass while I was on the bike. I park the bike, backtrack again on foot, and whew . . . success! I have to admit, a bit of cream was burned off the joy that is a beautiful November day and certainly, I'm beyond wanting to continue to the laundry. But, washing today? A must.

An hour or so later I'm still going back and forth in my mind about trekking downtown to the movie theatre. I want to see the flick, I don't know when I might get another chance, and so . . that plus the gorgeous weather helped convince me to venture out.

Still, I dilly-dallied long enough that catching the 2:00 p.m. showing would require quite a bit of luck and a rocket propelled train. Well, as you know, I missed the 2:00 p.m. showing. That gave me the opportunity to take in what is usually one of my least favorite destinations.

Today however, thanks to the gorgeous weather, some of the businesses being closed for the season resulting and the Bears playing a home game, resulting in a lighter crowd, the pier was quite pleasant. the pier wasn't terribly crowded. The weather and lack of overwhelming crowd made for a nice, pleasant way to spend part of an afternoon.

The movie, as you can probably tell from the trailer, is bleak. The subject matter is not at all up-beat. But, it was good. There were some decent performances and some only so-so. The filming and story-telling styles felt herky-jerky to me, taking away a bit of the power and punch the film should have delivered. But over-all, good. Having witnessed some of what Precious experienced, made the film that much harder to watch.

Still, I'm glad I got our for more than chores today. I'm glad circumstances had me in the later showing (I think the 2:oo was sold out anyway) for coming home in the clear, crisp evening was as enjoyable as the the early part of day had been.

All-in-all, a good day wrapping up a good weekend.

??????? And Then Some

Hey Debbie: How come I have not heard from you in such a long time???? What is going on???? Are things okay with you, Michael and Danielle and your mom????


My old friend is at it again.

She goes on to say she was mentioning to Stella (another former co-worker) that she hadn't heard from me in ages and ages, hope all is well, yadda yadda... Stella relayed to Joan (as reported by Joan) that she hadn't heard from me either. Note: Stella was burned out of her apartment nearly two years ago and I've yet to receive notice of her re-location address and I never had her phone number. Even before the fire, Stella didn't respond to my letters. Yes, actual letters. Any Stella news came from Joan.

After a couple of letters and no reply, I stopped writing.


Joan finishes, Please write soon and let me know that you are alright. I am getting very concerned.

Her message arrives at a time when I do not have the time, patience, or nary a hint of desire to massage her . . . whatever. Her, let me know that you are alright. I am getting very concerned sounds too much like someone much nearer and dearer to me and quite frankly I have enough on my hands and heart dealing with her various physical, emotional, and housing issues.

So Joan, I will not be writing soon. In fact, I will not be writing at all. If you call the office I may be available to speak with you, however, please know that I am very busy these days.

Never-the-less, I wish you well and when to talk with Stella, pass on my hellos.

Definition

Laid Back Halloween Party: A dinner of Chinese food (a promise of the best egg foo young, ever), dessert of taffy apples, beverage of choice, candy, (bonus: passing out to trick-or-treaters) and of back-to-back Dexter episodes.

2. Four women. Good food. Good time.