It is so cold in my living room right now that I’m finding it hard to concentrate because my nose is so chilled. I have on flannel pajama pants, a sweatshirt and am wrapped in a blanket, but, alas, there is nothing I can do for my nose.
And, sure, I could turn on the heat except I hate the way the heat makes me feel. Once the heat comes on I immediately feel claustrophobic, like I’m trapped under a pile of blankets that smell like burned tires.
By the way, I’m not complaining about being cold because I vowed this summer when it was 193 degrees outside that I would never, EVER, complain about the cold. It’s just an observation. My nose is cold. And yet I’m thankful for the cold, seasonal weather, especially considering that I spent much of Thanksgiving week sweating profusely as I insisted on wearing sweaters even though it was 85 degrees outside.
Anyway, how was your Thanksgiving?
Ours was lovely. As it turns out we are all big fans of the turducken. Who knew that all that layered poultry could be so delicious? Of course I never knew if I was eating turkey or chicken or duck or some combination therein, but it was delicious nonetheless. There’s nothing wrong with a little mystery.
I also made cornbread dressing, broccoli rice casserole, sweet potatoes, corn casserole, cranberries, roasted Brussels sprouts, pecan pie, and chocolate ice box pudding. And I would do all those things all over again with the exception of the corn casserole. I wasn’t a big fan. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy the corn casserole, it just seemed like one carb too many at the Thanksgiving table. A superfluous carb if you will. But I’m glad I tried it because I don’t ever want to get caught in a Thanksgiving rut.
(I don’t know what that means. Like cooking a turkey and making dressing once a year constitutes a rut?)
As it turned out I made way too much food for our Thanksgiving crowd of five people, but the good news is I may not need to cook again until sometime around mid-December. Sure, we may get tired of constant meals of cornbread dressing and various duck/turkey/chicken parts but think of all the trips to the grocery store I can avoid. I might even have time to learn a new hobby or constantly stalk the Anthropologie site in search of new sale items.
So the Thanksgiving meal was delicious. And then we went to watch the A&M game with some friends.
The day went downhill at that point.
I would say more but the language wouldn’t be appropriate and I try to keep it family friendly around here. Poor Caroline burst into tears after the game was over and I tried to console her by letting her know that disappointment is part of being an Aggie. It’s our heritage. It makes us stronger, more resilient in the hard times or bad coaching life can bring. I also may have tried to teach her a valuable lesson about how you can’t base your happiness on a bunch of twenty-year-old boys. It doesn’t work when you’re twenty and it doesn’t work when you’re forty.
But I think by the time I got to that point in my lecture on life lessons she was already over it and had moved on to her repeated request for a puppy for Christmas. She never misses an opportunity to ask for a puppy. In fact, we even met some friends for lunch before we left Houston on Tuesday and as soon as we got in the car after lunch, she asked, “Was I good enough to get a puppy?”
It’s turned out to be such an effective motivational tool that it’s going to be hard not to hold out on the puppy thing until she’s about nineteen. Is her room dirty? Well, that doesn’t really demonstrate that she’s ready for the responsibility of a puppy. Did she forget to brush her teeth? You can’t forget to feed a puppy. Did she stay out too late and talk back to her mother? NO PUPPY. The leverage is exhilarating.
And someday she’ll read this and the jig will be up.
In reality I love the idea of getting her a puppy for Christmas and the whole LOOK AT THE PUPPY SANTA LEFT UNDER THE TREE thing, but Scout and Bruiser are old and set in their ways (Join the club. It’s an epidemic at our house.) and I’m not sure if they would welcome an energetic youngster to the mix. Poor Scout is already on the verge of some type of nervous breakdown half the time. A puppy might push him right over the edge.
(I don’t know how this veered off into my internal debate about the puppy thing. I apologize for dragging you into it.)
So on Friday we all woke up with a touch of disappointing football game loss hangover. P and Caroline packed up and headed to the ranch for the weekend. I sat on the couch and debated getting out and joining in the Black Friday craziness, but resisted the urge until about 5:00 that evening when I ventured to Pottery Barn and the lure of 20% off Christmas ornaments.
But then I got overwhelmed at all the choices and the pillows and the coffee tables from the days of yore and the 30% off all throws and ended up leaving empty-handed. I drove straight to the pedicure place and treated myself to a holiday pedicure. My toes are now a sparkly red color called “Meep Meep” that’s part of the OPI Muppets collection.
(The details. Oh my word. ALL THE DETAILS.)
(Then I filled up my car with gas at Chevron. And debated going into Gap. And even made a u-turn and then changed my mind again. But then I regretted it later because they were having a big sale.)
(Then I came home and put on my plaid flannel pajama pants and gray sweatshirt. And watched six episodes of Army Wives.)
(I AM SO SORRY. I CAN’T STOP.)
The rest of the weekend was spent in a totally constructive manner. I alternated between watching episodes of Army Wives, Real Housewives of Atlanta, and Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders. Which may explain why I dreamed last night that Claudia Joy Holden died and I was embarrassed because I showed up at her funeral in a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader uniform and a man in a top hat drove me away in a horse drawn carriage.
That dream will absolutely make sense if you’ve watched all those shows. Otherwise you’ve never been more confused.
It probably didn’t help that I gave into the temptation to eat leftover broccoli rice casserole at 10:45 p.m.
And now Thanksgiving break is over and it’s back to the real world. A world where I haven’t even thought about my Christmas cards and am slightly panicking about it. A world where I’ll eventually have to get out Christmas decorations and put them up. A world where I’ll need to get those rotten pumpkins off my front porch.
The good news is I don’t have to factor cooking dinner into the real world equation, thanks to all the leftovers. The turducken is the gift that keeps on giving.
At least until the salmonella sets in.