Thanksgiving Saga

It’s my holiday. We don’t celebrate Christmas and I needed something besides religious holidays to bring both sides of the family together so for more than 35 years, I’ve done Thanksgiving. But, do not picture 15 or 20 people sitting around a groaning board and chowing down. In my best year of just family, it was seven people. My husband is an only child so there were no siblings from there; and my sister never married, so essentially, my two daughters are it. That’s not to say that I haven’t had more. For several years, my daughter’s roommate came but we were still at seven because my mother-in-law had passed away (which had left us at six for a few years. One year we invited a family whose house was under repair, so that pushed us to eleven.

And then my older daughter started to date the man she ultimately married. She came from Denver for Thanksgiving, so he started to come too. That was good for my husband because it gave him another guy at the table—and watching the football games intently. Then, after they were married, we invited his family to come east as well and join us. We went back up to ten.

The Healthy, Yet Jewish, Food

But in our house, the issue wasn’t even so much the numbers as what we served. I call it the nontraditional Thanksgiving. First, there’s no sweet potato pie with marshmallows. Usually, there’s no gravy either. Yes, there’s a turkey, and there’s stuffing, and I even pick up a can of cranberry sauce, which my mother (and my late mother-in-law) particularly like. And I make a big salad—mine are the kind that include a wide variety of vegetables, from celery to turnips. But there are other side dishes to.

My standard is potato latkes—the kind that are traditional at Chanukah time. They are a staple of the meal and there are almost no leftovers. When my mother and sister arrive for dinner, they immediately go looking for them to nibble on before we even start. And trust me, the latke effort isn’t easy. My hands don’t work as well as they used to so my older daughter has taken over the peeling. Fortunately, she is fantastic at it. I’ve never seen anyone peel 10 potatoes that fast. If I’m not careful to count them out beforehand, I’d have 20 potatoes in 12 minutes. But I still do the grinding – we are incredibly thankful that day for the food processor—and the mixing and the cooking, I use two frying pans to make the cooking time shorter. But if I say so, I make a mean latke and they are the highlight of dinner. Even my son-in-law, who was not raised near latkes, loves them.

And then there’s the other possible side dish—and no, it’s nothing with green beans although lately we do make dishes with them. No, I’m talking derma. This is a hard-to-explain food that I buy in the kosher delicatessen, and heat slowly usually in the microwave. It’s a little spicy, but the children love it—I’ve always been partial to it as well. (When my younger daughter was in the third grade they had to keep journals and she talked about derma in her Thanksgiving entry. The teacher had no idea what she was talking about, but thought it sounded interesting.)

Part the regulation dessert are chocolate raisin drops. It's a recipe I found in a cookbook many years ago with almost no prep time--just mix, drop, and let it sit. They are now a staple, and my younger daughter has also made them for parties she's been invited to. The trick is to hide them once they're made or I have half the number I started with when I go to put them out. Nowadays, the issue is finding German sweet chocolate, which for some reason a lot of supermarkets don't seem to carry anymore. So, if I see it a month before, I get it so I'm prepared. 

 Family Prep Time

And finally, there’s the cooking. When my children were small, obviously they didn’t do a lot to help with the cooking. In the last few years, though, my life has been much easier. I still handle the turkey setup, and the latkes—and all of the shopping since they live far away—but they handle the rest of it. My older daughter handles the potatoes, but also pitches in on salad prep. My younger daughter takes over on desserts. So while we have some standards—my son-in-law is requesting pies—she also always arrives with recipes for something new or different from our norms. She gives me the shopping list in advance and I fulfill it, but after that, it’s all her job. And it’s wonderful. It gives me a chance to better enjoy the day. I have a lot of counter space so we each have our station and can do our own thing. I really look forward to this every year because we’re now most three adults working together, although I, as mom, am the deciding factor in all disagreements.

Thanksgiving, my holiday for as long as I can hold onto it.

Reinventing Yourself     

You know what I’m talking about. You wake up one day and realize you have to start the next phase of your life. In my case, that meant the kids were truly grown and gone. My kids have finished college, and graduate school, and are productive members of society. One is married; both have good jobs and are totally self-supporting. (I freely admit to getting them four years of college, but after that, they knew we were there to help out if really needed but would not be supporting them. To give them credit, they have only asked if there was absolute dire need, and even then, they hated to do it.)

But then I realized, what’s next for me? Yes, I worked full-time, but it wasn’t the only thing I wanted to have time for. My husband has been known to travel frequently—although he comes home on weekends—so I have a lot of free evenings. I have never had a large group of friends so I don’t go out all the time. What do I do?

Back to Before...the Craft Effect

In my case, I don’t think I want to really change my life. I just want to get back to things I had lost out on doing before. So, lately, I’ve been making a real effort to get back to them. I’m finishing crochet projects, and keeping track of others I want to do. I like to challenge myself to learn new patterns and see how they go. In fact, I made a scarf just to see if I could get it to look like the picture (although I left off the fringe they had; to me it was a little too cutesy to add fringe with heart shapes crocheted into it). Turns out I had no trouble making my work and the picture match, so I then gifted the scarf to a friend who wears a lot of black (the scarf was in black and white). Turns out her car color is slightly off white with black stripes. She thought the scarf would match that really well so it’s now a seat accessory on the passenger side. It never occurred to me that I could go into the auto accessory business but it might be a thought. 

While I was in Denver for my first grandchild, my other daughter found a Tunisian crochet class scheduled at her favorite fabric/wool store. I took two mornings off from babysitting and did that. I've always wanted to learn Tunisian but could never figure out how to make it work. One sentence from the instructor, and a couple of illustrations later, and I was off  and running. There will be a second set of classes out there in February--and you know, I really should visit my granddaughter more often.

And I had a needlepoint project I’d been working on periodically. I’ve never paid a lot of attention to needlepoint stitches. Since I’m left-handed, I hear a lot of complaints that I work funny. But for the latest project I actively lookied for different stitches to give it more texture. That’s been fun, and worked out too. Final review will come from that granddaughter since it's hanging over her crib.

The other issue is that I have psoriatic arthritis--light on the “psoriatic” (for which I’m really grateful); heavy on the arthritis (for which I’m not that grateful).  Any needle/crochet work helps keep my hands more limber, which I really need. And, the work helps me calm my mind. I really need to do more in the evenings so I can turn myself off to sleep.

Finally

But I think it's really about what I really want to do going forward. My editing business is picking up but I can't stare at words, whether on a computer screen or on paper, all day. It's not good for my eyes. And we all need to regularly change things up in our lives. I once saw a commercial for an arthritis drug. I don't remember which drug they were selling, but I do remember one line the character said: If you rest, you rust. It's time to polish myself up.

Who Do You Shop With?

My favorite form of exercise is walking. When I want to really get into it, especially when it’s cold or rainy—or a little snowy—I go to a mall. It’s indoors, it’s big, It’s warm, I can do laps. But malls mean window shopping. I have a friend with whom I do “dinner and a mall.” We meet in a department store, go for a bit at one of the mall restaurants—we have our favorites and alternate among them—and we walk.  But that’s also window shopping.

I’m really not a big shopper. I like to look at displays, but getting my wallet out of my bag means that I’m probably looking for something in particular—for myself or as a gift. That’s when I want another opinion, but who should I use.

I don’t look at prices on things that other people buy, and I don’t want them to look at the price of what I’m buying, The woman I do dinner with first shares her coupons with me; I share with her. After all, if we’re not using them for ourselves someone should benefit. I would rather shop with someone who will give me an honest opinion on how I look in whatever I try on, not a comment on my budget. Which leads me to who I’m willing to shop with.

Yes, I shop with the woman I have dinner with. We’ve been friends for almost 50 years and know each others’ tastes well. But we never comment on each other’s budgets. If I’m not paying for something it’s none of my business anyway—unless I want the same thing. I just want an opinion. It she doesn’t like how it looks, or if she thinks the fit is off,  she will tell me that, but only that. But I have other friends I won’t go into stores with. First, there are those who want to tell me how to budget. It’s my wallet; stay out of it. Plus, these are sometimes people who don’t know how to budget themselves—trust me. I’ve heard many tales of money woes. If you can’t manage your budget, don’t come near mine.

If I Didn't Ask for an Opinion...

Then, there are those who want to toss my wardrobe and start fresh with how they believe I should dress. Personally, I think my clothing choices are fine; I was once told by my boss that I dressed too well for the office, I was a bit taken aback by that one and decided to ignore it. The only time I’ll worry is if they tell me something is ripped or that my clothing is dirty—and that’s never happened. I have sometimes appeared slightly wrinkled, but usually only if I’m tired and not paying attention when I leave the house. And, by the way, I kept on dressing “too well.” (She, however, always dressed down; I’m not sure she even changed the jeans she wore all the time that often, although she said she had several pairs just like them. I kept my mouth shut on that one.) I think my clothing style is fine and suits me. No, I didn’t wear jeans for most of my life, but I didn’t have the patience to figure out what “worked” for me in denim either. I’m definitely not the type to try on 15 different styles in one clothing type to find out what works. If I try on three of anything and one works, I’m done.

Don't Disappear Either 

And then there’s the third category. I met someone for lunch—at the mall—and said I had to stop into a store to look for a particular color in pants. She came along. I went into the dressing room, tried on a couple of pairs of the pants I might want, picked one, paid, and then had to find her. No interest in anything I was looking at or even an offer of an opinion. We stopped to look at wallets for her and I said something—just from my view. She appreciated it but she had no interest in what I was doing. I’m still deciding if that was good or rude. I’m probably going to err on the side of good, but I still find the complete lack of any interest at all odd.

Obviously, I have friends on all sides of the issue. I think I prefer to shop with the ones who are at least interested in offering an opinion when asked. Total disinterest is always startling to me. But I’m still going to avoid the ones who look at the price tags on my behalf, and those who want to reinvent me. I’ll stay out of their budgets and choices too. For those cases, it’s just “lunch/dinner and a ….” I’m trying to keep my sanity.

Off to the mall now!

Reason for Parenting

Reason for Parenting

I’m on a plane back to New Jersey. I was out of town for better than 2 weeks visiting the newest member of the family—my granddaughter, Sela. She is our first grandchild, born to our firstborn daughter. There’s something very poetic about that. And while I’m all right to be heading home, I already miss her. No, she cannot walk or talk, and probably has no idea of who I am, yet to me she is gorgeous, smart, and one of the greatest additions to our lives.

A friend of mine told me that there is an old Welsh proverb, one that I can paraphrase here but also totally agree with: there is no love so pure as that for a grandchild. To that concept I’ll raise a toast (in my case a diet soda or glass of water) and say, “Hear, Hear!” I don’t think there is anything more true Yes, I love my children, but having Sela can only expand our hearts—and theirs.

I have spent a lot of the past 2+ weeks helping my daughter out, and reassuring her that she will be a great mother (which she will) even though she’s getting very little sleep these days. I have ignored the cranky – Sela isn’t cranky, she just can’t talk yet so has to scream to make her feelings known – and been able to hold a grandchild who wants to hold her head up, even though it comes crashing down, usually on her nose, very quickly. Who thinks that standing up is a great idea—although we all know that once she pushes up there is only one way for her to go. She has a lot of patience, although when she’s in her crib and manages to roll to her side you can also see she is startled, trying to figure out where to go from there. Her hand went by her face and she was fixated on it. Helped her stop crying, although she had no idea where it came from—or where it went when she put her hand down.

I’m entranced by a baby’s ability to be totally focused on you for one second, and be totally conked out and sleeping the next. And as she’s sleeping, and making faces, you wonder what she’s dreaming. Most of the time I think they’re good dreams, but there are those grimaces I wonder about—nightmares already? Her life is good. There are regular feeding times, and diaper changes. She already knows the touch of both her parents and instantly calms down if they hold her. So, why the grimaces? Not enough adulation? We’re all in awe of her.

And the Flip Side

 And as I finish this I have to also wonder about the end of life. Less than a week after Sela was born, I lost a friend I held in high regard. No, we weren’t in touch often, but when we did speak we could just pick up where we left off as if no time had passed. Unfortunately, it seems no one I knew had even heard he was sick—and it seems he had been for a long time. But I have to admire him; knowing he was sick he continued to work and travel as much as he could. That’s how he chose to live his life; I can only hope that Sela does as well—and for longer.