So ... I can't say we had the most traditional of Thanksgiving dinners. As you can see it involved lawn chairs, a concrete floor, a make-shift table and a beautiful centerpiece (dropped off by some friends.) We did eat turkey and I did make a pie (lemon meringue). There were only 3 of us (me, PDaddy and Gin.) We talked a lot on the phone to the others ... some with video chats.
And ... as I'm sure is more than obvious ... we counted our many, many blessings.
And named them one by one.
How about you? How was your T-day? Mostly I want to hear about pie.
* Dust. Yep, it still lives and thrives on every surface. Today could possibly be the last dust-inducing day and then it won't be long until the new floors begin to unveil themselves.
* Yuck. PDaddy feels like yuck. He's into his second cycle (of four) of this (which had always been anticipated to happen after surgery recovery) round of chemo.
*Yum. I am half way through reading this most delightful book. Absolutely yummy. If the term hadn't been overused and commercialized, I would even venture to say ... Yum-mo.
So ... how was your weekend? Do tell. We are more than happy to live through it vicariously.
So ... while reading comments from my last blog (and I do read your comments ... and cherish each one) I came across this one from "ginny" which said:
"I'll be expecting my Cabbage Patch Kid from Woolworth's in the mail."
If you read that and were confused (what the heck does that have to do with dust or jury duty?) I am here to clear that up. If you didn't go back and read my comments, then you are probably ... a normal person.
Here's the story:
In the summer of '82 or '83, I was was the young mother of 3 girls ("ginny" amy gee and mrs. dub) and one boy (sonny-boy). I started out the summer with high hopes of organization and cleanliness. I made the obligatory "chore chart" and I attached a very large, very impossible-to-obtain prize to the other end of the bribe: If they did their chores regularly (made beds, picked up toys, kept all stray Barbie-body-parts out of the couch cushions) then they would receive the most coveted prize of all ... a Cabbage Patch Kid, heretofore known as the CPK. I knew at the moment I told them this, that CPK's were near to impossible to come by, but I didn't worry. Why not? Because the chore chart had been largely ignored to that point in their young lives, that's why.
When they (and by "they" I mean the 3 girls, Sonny Boy was the size of a CPK at the time) got up the next morning and promptly made their beds, I wasn't worried. One week later when the Barbies were fully ambulatory, I started to panic. At this point I knew that the only way to be able to purchase a CPK was to be inside the store at the exact moment the shipment arrived. And at that ... blood would probably need to be spilled.
I put in calls to relatives in several states to be on guard and then proceeded to pray. One unremarkable, hotter-than-hades afternoon, I received a call from PDaddy. He was downtown Phoenix ... on jury duty ... and had gone into a Woolworths at lunch to buy gum, when lo and behold ... the shipment. He was calling to tell me this because he had walked to the Woolworths and he needed me to meet him on the street corner ... STAT ... before his lunch hour was up. I told the girls, who immediately started sobbing as we buckled ourselves into the car and sped off at the speed of light. At the first stop-light I looked down and realized I had no gas. Prayer to the rescue once again. The girls continued to sob while Sonny Boy innocently played with a toy, not realizing that his status as "most fun play thing in the house" was about to go up in smoke.
When we got downtown, there was poor PDaddy holding not one, not two, but three of the gargantuan boxes that held our new grandchildren. He threw them into the car (I believe some injuries were sustained from the sharp corners) and literally sprinted back to the courtroom. How the girls managed to open those boxes is still a mystery, but before long each double-named doll was eternally bonded with her mother and life would never be the same again. (Help me out with the names here girls ... I know that two of them had the first name "Naomi".) Once the dolls were easier to come by, a few more joined the family, but none held places of honor like those first three.
So ... that's what Cabbage Patch Kids, Woolworths and Jury Duty have in common. (I know it was bugging you.)
What's your CPK story?
So ... we're living in a dust bowl. Right now we can sit on our bed or in the office ... or on patio furniture in the middle of the family room. The living room and garage are full of furniture and everything ... from the countertops to the tops of cereal boxes ... is covered in silt.
Our tile has been removed and it didn't go out without a fight. Our tile was tough. Ask Kevin, our super-handy-dandy-man. I'm sure he wishes that our tile had been wimpy.
It will all be worth it, I promise. Just wait until you see the final results. In the meantime, there might not be much blogging going on. 'Cause let's face it, I can only take so many pictures of dust.
And to add to the fun I'm headed off to do Jury Duty tomorrow. My first time ever. Someone tell me what I have to look forward to.
So ... my picture here has nothing to do with the subject of my post, which has nothing to do with pumpkins ... which is exactly my point.
Are you following so far?
My point is this: Last weekend (that would be the first full weekend in November) both of my favorite radio stations went to "all Christmas music ... all the Time". Last year they (and there was only one then) started the weekend before Thanksgiving and even then, I thought it was too early.
So this year they moved it back not one week, but two. I can only respond to this with one word:
I'm sorry people, but this is just plain wrong. And do you want to know what is wrong-er? I'm listening to it. Yep ... singing along. Oh yes ... and to top it all off, I have started my Christmas shopping as a result! (That last one is actually a plus, but I threw it in for effect.)
I tried to find another station, but it was too hip for me and I was afraid it would make me more hip than I already am, and the non-hip woman you have grown to know and love would fade into the background.
In the meantime, I'll try to squeeze some more juice (figuratively) out of my pumpkins for a couple more weeks. And when the time is right ... Bing and I will tell you when it's okay to begin to look a lot like Christmas.
So let's vote:
B: The Economy needs it, let's face it.
C: Bring it on and make sure to include The Chipmunks, Snoopy & the Red Baron and "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas."
I can think of many obsessions that are less healthy than a pillow obsession, can't you?
Eh, too bad I have some of those obsessions too.
So ... remember how I won another GiveAway from the Jolly Jabber (aka the Fat Quarter Shop) and then I never checked back to see if I had won, but she hunted me down and then I couldn't wait until it arrived?
Well ... yesterday it arrived and since I was expecting some "charm packs" or even "jelly rolls", I couldn't figure out why the package was so dang heavy.
And then I opened it. And then I gasped just a little. Drool may or may not have been expelled.
But my point is this: Study the first picture and tell me what is weird about it. (Other than the fact that none of the fabrics in the border would appear to go together. That's the point, people.) No ... what I am trying to point out is that I am quilting on it and the binding is completely attached. What the heck!?!
Helpful Hint #1: I was furiously working on the quilting and had all the straight lines (around the sashing strips) done. Then I desperately needed an all-day-hand-project. So I applied the binding, sewed it down as my project-du-jour and then went back to the quilting. Can I tell you how easy it was to do without all the extra flaps on the edges? Sooooo much easier to work with.
I would definitely do that again.
Helpful Hint #2: If you think that another advantage was that I didn't have to deal with any pins ... well I never had to in the first place. I never baste my quilts and I never pin-baste my quilts. I use 505 spray to get those 3 layers to stick together. Always have. Always will.
And Helpful Hint #3?: If you live in the western US and haven't voted yet ... get out there NOW.
So ... I hope your wazoo isn't feeling too cramped.
So ... as you may or may not know, I don't have much of a green thumb. I'm over it. However we are often the recipients of some very lovely arrangements from very lovely friends. Just this afternoon the doorbell rang and a sweet young family from the ward (church) brought by this arrangement (made by their daughters [with a wee bit of help I suspect] who are both under 10 and already have more in their tiny little thumbs than I do.) They also brought by some peanut-butter brownies.
I cannot begin to tell you how much I enjoyed the brownies, but still ... are these flowers not the most delightful things ... ever!
So ... how was your weekend? Did you have many trick-or-treaters?
(We had almost none, so along with brownies, I have a plethora of tiny candy bars. This is not going to be a good week.)