Turkey Day

There are several sure fire ways to irritate my mom. You could buy her something purple to wear, show her any kind of bodily mucus or hide a mysterious odor in the house. But the best annoyance I like to employee is the following phrase said in a high pitched and nasal voice:

"Wendy, your house is immaculate."


This phrase was first uttered by my grandmother at one year's Thanksgiving dinner while I was growing up. Grandma didn't mean any harm; it was meant as a compliment to my mother's housekeeping skills. But you could hear my mom's teeth grind and see her skin crawl as it was said that first year and then every year after.

My mom would work like stink for days before Thanksgiving. You could see the gears grind in her head as she prepared menus and organized a plan of attack for cleaning the house. You could also see her prepare for what Grandma would say, what commentary she had about my mom's house, dinner and, ultimately her life.


My mom would start cooking before anyone woke up in the morning. We hardly ate much before dinner was served. Mom would cook all day long and my sister would purposefully help Mom in the kitchen leaving me to entertain my grandmother by myself in the living room. It was always a crap shoot if the turkey was dry or not. Even though we never said anything and always said the turkey was delishous you could tell the disappointment in my mom with a certain sound of sigh. We'd eat ravenouslyfor fifteen minutes and be so glutenously full but still want two pieces of pumpkin pie with fresh real whipped cream. My mom put together a pickle plate; a plate of various pickles, relishes and deviled eggs -- it was never eaten and would stay in the refrigerator as left overs for ages. These are my Thanksgiving memories.


My Thanksgivings are a bit different now that I am a grown up. Not any better and certainly not any worse; just different. I still don't cook and we don't travel. We stay at home and usually clean the whole house. We can't pull it together well enough to clean the day before and then have the holiday to putz around. The menu is still the same with the addition of sauer kraut which cooks on the stove all day long. The smell starts to waft through the house at around 10 o'clock. This is my confession; I don't like sauer kraut, I cannot stand the smell and I don't think it belongs on a Thanksgiving Day menu.

Jeff and I are on a cursade to purge closets and clean and rearrange our stuff becasue we have so much stuff. We feel overwhelmed. In a closet I found my grandmother's old Irish knit sweater. I held onto that sweater becasue its the one she wears in my most favorite picture of her. I pulled out of the closet, inspected for bug damage (not too bad) and put it on to see if I'd like to wear it. I found a dollar in one of the pockets. Found money! A lucky dollar! It's the dollar that will buy the winning lottery ticket!