The choosing of a turkey has become somewhat of a challenge over the last fifteen years. The 'challenge' has been to find the best turkey at the best price. It became a bit of a 'thing'. My mum would ask, "How much did you pay for your turkey this year", as she spent a small fortune on the Christmas fowl! At first, it was easy. The supermarket, from where I bought my groceries, offered a 'free' turkey when a certain amount was spent on items in their store. The frugal side of me relished this idea. However, the frugal side of me was challenged when someone mentioned the price of items in my preferred supermarket were considerably higher than those in another shop. I had to rethink. Admittedly, fifteen years ago, I did not venture out as far as now, and my 'local' supermarket was the only one in which I had any faith. Like a dentist or optician, how did I know which one was right for me. Perhaps the comparison is considered somewhat extreme to some, but moving as I did, in my mid forties, I was very much 'stuck in my ways' and the choice of supermarket was every bit as important as the choice for health care! However I digress. (A detail that has not changed!) As my confidence grew, so did my options, and the challenge became not only who could offer the best deal, but who could offer the best deal and the best brand! I have a list of favourites. All in all, the challenge this year was a little more challenging, as the offers were less offering. Suffice it to say, by Saturday last, I had no idea as to where I was going to buy my Thanksgiving Turkey! I would like to make it clear that I know the spirit of Thanksgiving is not all about the Turkey, but like other celebrations, the tradition sometimes overtakes the reason!
Monday became D-day! Or should it be T-day! I called a supermarket downtown where I always bought my bird when we worked there. "You want what now?" I repeated my question. "Do you have a deal on your 'whole frozen turkeys' this year?" I repeated. "Oh, I shall put you through to the department", she said, helpfully. "You want what, now?" asked the lady who answered the phone. "You have come through to 'floral'. You need to call back and ask for 'Main Market'. They will help you". I thanked her, called Grant to be 'on hand' should they not understand me, and called back. "Our turkeys are forty nine cents a pound", was the response from the lady who answered the phone. Slightly more expensive than in past years, but less than other shops. "But we don't have them in yet. We don't know when they are arriving. We hope they will be here in time!" I felt the angst in her voice.
Samantha and I went to Walmart. The best deal I could find available. Seventy eight cents a pound! The brand was one on my list, but this was outrageous! Buying a rather large turkey has also been a tradition. Although we have never had additional guests for dinner, I have always maintained an 'open door' policy for Thanksgiving, and anyone who is alone and wants to join us is welcome. I took home a fifteen and a half pound bird, at seventy eight cents a pound, and was thankful that the challenge had been completed, and knew that even at that price, it was a remarkable bargain! The bigger challenge was yet to come. Cooking said bird to perfection!
The work week was short, ending for me early on Wednesday afternoon, when I returned home, and emptied Bertie, as he had been affectionately called, of all that had been packed away inside, in paper bags. I wondered at the 'health' instructions that had been issued in recent years. To prevent contamination, don't clean the turkey. Do not touch the inside of the turkey. In fact, the best option, it would appear, is to go out for dinner so you do not have to have any contact with an uncooked turkey! If this is the case, why are the innards put in a bag, inside the uncooked turkey! As it is removed, surely the spores that are lethal are going to be sent into the air and contaminate the surrounds. Taking chances is not my usual method of behaviour, but in this case I was going to break my rules. I would wash my hands thoroughly before touching anything, and use disinfectant wipes on all areas once the innards bag been disposed of 'responsibly'! I have heard that twenty seconds is an adequate time to wash hands to ensure cleanliness, the time it takes to sing 'happy birthday', twice! "Happy birthday, dear.....". I was going to sing 'Bertie', but of course, poor Bertie would never see another birthday, let alone hear me sing to him.
With Bertie back in the fridge, in a bath of coke and apple juice, (the coke to kill off anything nasty inside, and the apple juice because someone once said, "I use apple juice",) I went about my evening preparations for a 'regular' dinner.
By Thursday evening, Bertie had been cooked to perfection, and partially demolished. My kitchen had been thoroughly cleaned, but the incessant humming of 'Happy birthday' was still going through my head! Apart from wanting to sing something else, all that remained of the 'holiday' was the rest of the 'tradition'.
Samantha and Edward left after we had cleared away the dishes, and Dana and I were faced with a new challenge. Two dogs! We were going to have to look after two dogs, overnight. Suffice it to say, I did not sleep! Friday morning did not come soon enough, and the quadrupeds were picked up at around eight.
Our tradition of going to Dallas had stopped a couple of years ago when Dana's mum found the journey from her home to her eldest son a little too exhausting. Each year she had said, "This is the last time", and finally it was. Dana broke with another tradition and chose to stay away from the office, despite the fact he was 'in town'. I was delighted. "What shall we do?" he asked.
Going out for breakfast was fun. It was already gone ten, but we were 'officially' on holiday as far as I was concerned, and IHop beckoned! It was an American holiday we were celebrating, so it seemed fitting that we should frequent a truly American establishment! It was delicious. More food than necessary, but we are in America! I was thankful! I decided long ago that although there are many who do not have what I am able to enjoy, my guilt will not feed them, and I will do what I can, but I cannot, alone, solve world hunger, nor local dilemmas. I can donate, and I can volunteer, but solving the unfavourable situation permanently would have to involve everyone. I am not unsympathetic to the plight, merely practical. I stand off my soapbox!
After breakfast, we decided to go to the cinema. Dana and I have not been to the cinema, together, for a very long time. We saw
'Midway', a remake of course, but an excellent remake in my opinion. 'Lest we forget!'
Instead of going out for a cup of coffee, we decided to come home, and enjoy a cup of tea! Fog had descended over our city, and everything was wet. The visibility was not good, and we had more than enough food in the house to keep us fed for a few days! Enough is as good as a feast, and we had enjoyed our 'outing'. A new tradition? Probably not, but a wonderful day. My daughter and her husband had been traditioning all day! Going shopping, coming home, going shopping, coming home, etc., etc. They too ate left overs. Bertie was the gift that kept on giving!
The usual 'Moaning Mother-in-Law Day' that follows Thanksgiving Thursday and Black Friday, was not to be. From free turkeys to trips to Dallas, to son-in-law working, has put a spanner in the works! However, the words 'in-law' were removed and we headed out for a 'Moaning Mother' day. After the first stop, and the inevitable question, "Where now", I replied, "Perhaps we should just do a normal Saturday". Wrong answer! It was a tradition. We would carry on with the day, whether Edward could join us or not! He was messaging Samantha on a regular basis. "Where to now. Is she moaning?" It had been raining when we left my house, and although I wore short sleeves, I also had on a pair of jeans, and wore boots. The rain stopped, and the temperatures rose, leaving us wondering why we did not wear flip flops, shorts and t-shirts!
Admittedly, we did not go to the outlet mall, nor did we venture into any of the electronic stores, but we kept up with tradition, by having a very unconventional, as well as untraditional Saturday. We wandered around all the 'outlet' shops. "I don't need another pair of boots", I said as I placed the 'can't leave them on the shelf' pair on the counter. I had to search for the bargains, but they were there! Finally, we did go to Costco. I needed a vacuum cleaner, and whilst the kids had picked up the one I thought I wanted, I saw an alternative. "How heavy is the bit that you carry around?" I asked, as I wanted something less cumbersome to clean my stairs. I thought the cordless model with a detachable arm would be 'the one', but I found another corded model where the cylinder can be removed. "It wont come off. It is a demonstration model", said my daughter. "If it is to demonstrate, surely it should come apart to be demonstrated!" I reasoned. Three vacuum cleaners were on show. One was similar to what had been bought. The second looked as if it may be suitable. The third looked like a contender but there was no way to tell as I could not separate the part I needed to 'try out'. "Right", said I, as I lifted down a box. Opening the package, I proceeded to carefully place the contents in an order in which we could replace them. The detachable bit was too small, and very heavy. It was no good. Carefully, we attempted to replace the pieces in the box. No matter how hard we tried, they would not fit. It was impossible. Like a puzzle ring! Everything was put back in order, but somehow the pieces did not fit into the spaces. We started to giggle. "You are writing a blog post, aren't you!" stated my daughter, no doubt observing my vacant stare. In and out of the box the pieces went. "This goes up this way". No it didn't. "This is the wrong way round". No it wasn't; we had not even removed that part. What could we do? I took another box down, opened it, and took out three pieces. It was 'make or break', Carefully peering into the second box, we saw how the pieces should be placed. Did it work? No! In the end, we managed to get the second box back on the shelf, in tact, and then I put the original box back on the shelf with all the pieces neatly placed inside, but with the lid open. Someone more adept than I would have to take on the challenge!
"It's the most wonderful time of the year", came the words sung by an artist whose name I recall not. I continued on with the lyrics. "When the people start fighting, and parking spaces fought over, and everyone pushes and shoves." Tempers had already started to flare, as lists were argued over, and patience to which Austinites are generally prone all year, disappears as the Yuletide season officially begins. "Tis the season to be jolly", echoes over the airwaves as queues form, and Stepford is no longer!
Much earlier than is traditional, Samantha and I returned home. It was time! We were still in a good mood, and had been laughing for most of the day. We were relaying the events of the day to Dana, who was trying his best to look interested.
Sunday gives way to 'Cyber Monday'. Sunday is just Sunday. The day that separates the 'rest of the year' from the real run up to the end. A day of rest? Perhaps a day of reflection? Perhaps, just a day to recharge the batteries. This particular Sunday, has not been dubbed with a traditional name, at least not by us. Perhaps it should be 'Stopping Sunday', or 'Stay at home Sunday'.
Next week is already knocking on the door, and I have quite a lot to accomplish before it begins. The remains of 'poor' Bertie have to be frozen, and his bones disposed of 'responsibly'. My fridge has to be reorganised, and the vacuum that Samantha bought for me, that I am going to return, has to be put back in the box! I had to remove it to see which one was more suitable! An impossible task? Perhaps. Next Saturday is tree decoration day. Another tradition ............. another story!
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