TheBanyanTree: Post Thanksgiving

[Theta Brentnall]

I will say conclusively that you won the awesome Thanksgiving contest. Ours was a little iffy from the beginning. Gerry's niece, Elise, has a new (to her) house so she wanted to host the family Thanksgiving dinner. We were to arrive at 3, which kind of made us think dinner at 4-ish so we skimped on lunch. We got there early because we had anticipated horrible traffic which didn't materialize. (Oh, yes, "we" consisted of Gerry and me, our oldest, Darling Maggie, her Darling Shane and the two grandest of grandchildren, Indiana and Micah.  Just so you know the players.) Elise's boyfriend was there, but no Elise. Two raw turkeys on the counter. A big pan of raw potatoes waiting for heat. A green bean casserole sitting on the table which Mike said had been dropped off in the morning and apparently had been sitting there unrefrigerated for some hours. I whispered to Indy and Micah, "Don't eat any of that at dinner."  They whispered back, "No worries. Wouldn't touch it!"

We asked where Elise was when she didn't appear and Mike said she was getting ready. After 20 minutes or so, Maggie and I dug out some carrots and bell peppers to cut up and Mike found some guacamole and humus dips, so we put out some snackings. A few more guests showed up. No Elise. Turkeys still raw. Maggie put the potatoes on to boil. 

About a quarter to 4, Shane decided to put one of the turkeys on the grill and some of the other guests started getting the oil hot to fry the other turkey. 

Four o'clock, Elise appears.  She is beautifully dressed and coiffed, but expressed dismay that the guests were doing the cooking.  

Four-thirty, Gerry's brother and his wife showed up with the pies. There were 20 people there. They brought 10 pies. I thought there were only 8 but 2 were duplicates so they didn't get put out. 

Five-thirty. The turkeys were done. Two of the other guests had mashed the potatoes and we started putting things on the serving table when Elise blew in and said no, no, no, it's too early. 

Six o'clock.  Maggie encourages Elise to get the the food on the table so we could eat. Her actual words were, "Oh my God!  Put the food out!  Do you WANT to watch my kids have melt-down?"  She could have added me to the list - I was pretty well on my way to melt-down myself. 

The new house is seriously tiny, so Elise had rented a tent with patio heaters for the dinner. The day never reached 50 degrees, so we were all wearing everything we had brought and we're still cold, but the heaters worked pretty well. And finally we ate. The food was good. Conversation was pleasant. And then one of the other guests leaned back in his chair and complemented Elise on getting the tent because since we were outside he could enjoy his post-dinner cigar. And proceeded to light up. I wonder if he was at all puzzled by the fact that almost everyone else leapt out of their chairs and fled back inside. 

We snarffed down pie, washed the dishes, said our good-byes and headed home with the heater turned all the way up and when we got home we all squeezed together in front of the fire until we were toasted all the way through. 

I hope everyone else had a wonderful day and now we can look forward to Christmas. 

Theta


Sent from my iPad

> On Nov 27, 2015, at 1:34 PM, Monique Colver <monique.colver at gmail.com> wrote:
> 
> Thanksgiving was the Best Time Of Our Lives, which I say to participate in
> the post Thanksgiving social media contest to see who has had the best, and
> who is the most grateful, and who is the most awesomest in terms of
> presentation, guests, and food. We didn't have the most guests, and our
> presentation was lacking, but the guests we had were of the highest quality
> and far superior to, say, your guests, and the food, which was prepared in
> tag team fashion due to my inability to stand up for very long, exceeded
> even our wildest expectations.
> 
> There. So now you have the basis of the Thanksgiving debacle, if by debacle
> you mean a no-holds barred festive good time, which I think is the very
> definition of Thanksgiving. Also a plus: no dashed expectations when the
> presents aren't quite what one expected, since Thanksgiving is not yet a
> gift giving occasion.
> 
> Anyway, after our guest left, I collapsed in a heap, and then had some
> leftovers. I assumed I would be sleeping well when I went to bed, because
> that's what I expect. So I lay there in my bed, a dog asleep at my head,
> and remembered why I don't drink much. It's the sleep patterns. It's not as
> I was guzzling whiskey straight, it was only almost three small glasses of
> wine, what could it hurt?
> 
> And so I laid there looking for something to do. I bought the new John
> Irving. I played with my phone. I wrote the beginning of a short story on
> my phone. Eventually I drifted off into a distracted sleep, only to be
> awakened by Ash who wanted to go outside to see if he could find any early
> Black Friday sales (he was unsuccessful in his quest) and then tried the
> sleep thing again.
> 
> I'm quite disappointed in my inability to drink without repercussions. It's
> not as I really care about drinking, and it's not as if I want to drink all
> the time, and it's not as if I don't go months and years without a drink
> with a care, it's that when I do drink, I expect it to not affect me in any
> way whatsoever.
> 
> I started drinking when I was 18, as most of us do (right?), especially
> once I found out that the military post I was living on didn't care if I
> drank myself into a stupor every night. The club would serve me drinks all
> night long, and the package store would just hand the stuff out to me,
> assuming I presented them with money. And so I drank copiously, because
> everyone knows that the best way to fight off feelings of loneliness,
> confusion, despair, and self-hatred is to drink.
> 
> Once I'd worn out my welcome, they sent me to another base where I knew not
> one single person, but back then I could make friends fairly easily,
> especially the bums along skid row when I'd hand out bottles of cheap
> liquor. The package store at this base was quite lovely, and I never went
> to the club but once or twice because it wasn't needed. I would buy my
> whiskey or rum at the package store, carry it out in the paper bag, open
> the bottle, and spend the rest of the day carrying around the bag and drank
> from it. I was unaware of the concept of "mixers" at the time. I married a
> fellow alcoholic because, y'know, drunk, and over the next few years my
> drinking tapered off, while his did not. Instead, he attempted to make up
> for my shortfall. On my wedding night he was a sobbing drunken mess who had
> to be helped to bed while his friends pounded at the door, demanding he
> come out and do more drunk stuff with them.
> 
> That was a gigantic clue that screamed, "Get the hell out of this while
> there's still time!" but I don't listen very well.
> 
> As the years went by I drank less and less, though occasionally I would
> overimbibe when out with friends -- I was purely a social drinker --
> drinking alone did nothing for me, it did not even amuse me. And now my
> meds suggest I don't mix alcohol with them, which I regard as far less of a
> warning than a mere suggestion. I go months and months and months without
> drinking, and I feel not the slightest inclination to take it up. Though
> occasionally, now and then, I have wished that alcohol would dull some of
> the pain in my head, but I knew it never would, so why bother?
> 
> Yesterday my cousin brought two bottles of wine. We even have wine, and
> hard liquor. Sometimes we cook with it. But she brought wine, and it was a
> holiday, and we had a really good time. And the wine was good.
> 
> Today I'm working on my laptop, writing with a dash of accounting thrown
> in, reading my new book, just hanging out. .The perfect day after the
> perfect day.
> 
> 
> 
> *We appreciate your referrals!*
> 
> Monique Colver
> Colver Business Solutions
> www.colverbusinesssolutions.com
> monique.colver at gmail.com
> (425) 772-6218