Our Thanksgiving so far. But first, some background.
SH has been trying to sell one of the cars. He found a buyer who has worried him to death with long phone calls at inconvenient times and visits and in general pain in the neckness. He met with the guy yesterday to take care of the financials and is getting the car ready today so the buyer can pick it up tomorrow, which means cleaning it out and hauling all the car-related stuff (extra tires, old magazines, etc, etc) out of the basement.
A small proportion of the Lutheran pies last night at the Thanksgiving service. That is Lutheran brandy in the background.
Work has not been slow. He came to bed at 3:45 the other night.
Europeans and Asians do not celebrate Thanksgiving. SH works for an international company. Draw your own conclusions. Wait. Don't. SH has already spent time working today.
So. Here we are.
The pork loin on top, chicken underneath. He has not put on the beef yet.
6:50 a.m. Laverne awakes, jumps on my chest to see if I'm still breathing.
I put both cats in the basement along with their breakfast. Put the strata in the oven and turn it on. Good grief, Kenmore, must your controls make noise? I do not need audible feedback to know that I am turning the burner on or from low to high. I especially do not need the noise to go from the kitchen to the bedroom to wake my sleeping husband who, I assure you, is the least morning person I know.
6:53 I return to bed and fall back to sleep. Based on later reports, SH does not fall back to sleep but lies next to me nursing a small grudge.
7:35 I get up again. I am awake. I make the Good Coffee (I usually just make instant because I am just beginning my journey to Coffee Snobship), which means I have to get the stool out so I can reach the Good Coffee from the top shelf where SH hides it. The coffee maker makes noise. Of course.
8:15 I hear moans from the bedroom. SH is cranky. Highly unusual. SH almost always awakes in a good mood.
But he's cranky because he hasn't had enough sleep all week and he wanted to sleep in this morning and he didn't get to because I woke him up with the oven noise which, yeah, I did and whose stupid idea was to make the buttons noisy anyhow, KENMORE?
9:00 We get to work on the animal flesh for the smoker. We truss the chickens and he freaks out because there is chicken juice on my hands and OH NO IT'S ON THE COUNTER DON'T TOUCH ME! And I say You know people prepare chicken ALL THE TIME and DO NOT DIE. I mutter I prepare chicken all the time and you do not die. Sheesh it's not plutonium.
Then he takes the pork out of the package and it slips and the tray dips and it goes into the sink and OH NO! OH NO! And I say What? And he says OH NO! And I say Big deal. And he says But there's PORK JUICE! And I say Oh for crying out loud when is the last time someone got trichinosis in this country?
Cream-cheese stuffed jalapenos wrapped with bacon. No, this is not the low-fat Thanksgiving.
So we continue to fight and I say why don't you just take a nap and he says I can't because I have to watch the smoker and then my migraine returns.
11:00 We eat breakfast. SH points out that there was no reason for me to have started the strata at 6:50 a.m. because we are not even eating until 11:00 and I concede that he is indeed correct.
SH sighs deeply again and says that he is tired and wishes he could have slept. He says he just wants a break but he will have to spend all day working on the car stuff and cooking and I say but this is supposed to be fun.
Then he says he really just wants a weekend of nothingness and relaxing and although he is looking forward to seeing our friends and being with people who actually speak wine, couldn't we do it another weekend and would it be too awful if we rescheduled but we can't that would be so selfish?
I said that the beauty of good friends is that you can tell them the truth and they will get it.
5:13 The chickens after smoking but still not done, so SH is about to move them to the grill for finishing. He has spent the afternoon cleaning out the car and the junk in the basement. Finds? A "Howard Dean for President" bumper sticker. Among many, many other things.
So I call my friend of over 20 years Lenore and tell her the truth and she is completely understanding, although she does point out that she was looking forward to the smoked pork loin. As we will have more than eight pounds of it, I am very sure that there will be some for her in the future.
So what am I grateful for? For my friends, who are my friends even though they know me well, for my awesome sweet, generous, sexy, Terminator engineer husband, who loves me even though I wake him up early in the morning and who rolls his eyes as I tell the truth from my perspective even when it does not exactly match the facts, and for my family. Happy Thanksgiving.