Thanksgiving Blessings

By the time you’re reading this, Thanksgiving will be upon us. Everything that always happens to me because of my amazing flare for the dramatic, will be a thing of the past. Stories, that will be told at the Thanksgiving table as we all proceed to eat more than we can comfortably stand. In between bites I will tell of my hysteria when I ran out of one thing or another, forgot to buy this, that or the other, and how I completely forgot that I had planned to make this dish or that.

Because that’s who I am. I’m a planner to a fault. I make lists. I am still that crazed-looking woman roaming up and down the aisles of Winn Dixie, the store I shop at most every week, looking for items that I don’t normally purchase; therefore, I look lost as heck trying to find them.

Then I spend at least ten minutes of what seems like HOURS trying to remember the difference between baking power and baking soda. You can always tell the non-bakers on the aisle with all the baking items. They, like me, are standing in front of one section after another, with furrowed brow, cell phone in hand, trying to decide when has it been an appropriate amount of time to declare defeat, wave the white flag of surrender, and just call Mom – the expert.

I can’t remember too many years since holiday dinners were passed down to me, that a call has not been made from the baking aisle. Every time, before leaving the house, I think I have myself and my notes together and that they are comprehensible. They never are.  

Speaking of which, do any of you remember the first year the holiday dinners became your responsibility? My gracious in Heaven, what a sideshow all of that seemed to be. I had recipes, I had directions; but confidence – nary a bit. I mean, what’s the big deal? It’s only dressing, the same dressing recipe that has been cooked in my mother’s family since the beginning of time. Her mother made it, she made it, and now here I am hoping not to make a mess of it. No pressure. You would think if you just follow the directions it would be snap! Well, I’m here to tell you all right now, nothing is EVER a snap for me. Those older generations cooked some by measurements, but a lot of it was by taste, and by the “jiggle” of it. Not too loose, not too firm, brown but not dark brown on top, etc. My friends, I’m here to attest to the fact that everybody’s jiggle just ain’t the same.

Somehow, it always seems to come together, even if most of the time I am secretly hoping that the beauty from my holiday table-setting, along with the sweat on my brow and the top of my lip, will distract somewhat for any cooking faux pas that passes someone’s lips.

I’ll of course, regale you later with stories of how it all really went down – but until then – blessings to you and yours, and a Happy Thanksgiving  to all.

Where Do We Go From Here

I’m a self-proclaimed homebody. Most of you can probably tell from my columns that I don’t venture out much, and when I do, it’s not very far. I go where I want to go, and do the things I want to do. I shop on our square here in Quincy, I make an appearance on the streets of Havana at least a couple of times a year, and Tallahassee sees me several times a month.

But as a general rule, I am an on-line shopper and I still like to cook my own meals most every weekend. My husband and I stray as far as the Waffle House or locally at Odell’s for breakfast on an occasional Saturday morning. And every now and again, on a Tallahassee visit, there are a couple of places we like to frequent for a change in food venue. Clothes shopping for me is almost 100% on-line unless it’s for a special occasion of some kind.

Most anything you want can be bought on-line these days, and even in some of the more populated towns, so can your groceries. I don’t know that I’ll ever get to that point, about the groceries I mean. 

Mainly because I’m pretty choosy about my fruits and vegetables and bread. Good grand am I ever picky about my bread. It has to have THE most recent date, it has to be soft to the touch, and not too brown on the top crust. If my husband were injecting his opinion here, he would tell you I am picky about everything, including can goods, etc. I’m a date-checker/expiration checker on everything. And if a can, bottle, box, or container of anything that is sitting at the front doesn’t look right, I guarantee you that I will be digging behind it to pull a better looking one forward for purchase.

However, none of what I just recited to you has anything to do with my point today; other than the parts about not getting out much. I don’t know about you all, but these days, I’m almost scared to get myself into any huge group/crowded situation. Nothing feels safe anymore, whether it’s a diner/restaurant, a nightclub, a yoga bar, or a school bus stop.

If I had a child in school today, I would be terrified to leave my smaller children alone, waiting on a bus pick-up. The rash of child deaths at bus stops in the past two weeks almost feels intentional at this point. How does it happen that many times in that short amount of time?

I have young, adult children. I almost don’t even want to know their plans for weekend entertainment. My mind and imagination go into overdrive when I think about them dining at open-aired restaurants and crowded club scenes where they often go to catch the local musical talent available.

My last words to most anyone on road trips etc., is to be careful and take no chances. Now I feel like I have to say that when they are headed to the local grocery store. I don’t know what the solution is; because it certainly isn’t all about gun/weapon control to me, it’s about hate control. And I have no idea how we got here.

The Big Double Nickel

By the time you all are reading this, several life events will already have come and gone. It’s been quite the week around here as it always is this time of the year.

First, Halloween had a very different vibe this year. The amount of trick or treaters we saw were tremendously reduced in numbers from years past. I was invited to sit and watch the activities with my son and his girlfriend at their home on 9^th street which is usually the mecca area for such goings on. But this year, because of the storm and I think just life in general, the climate was much different and because of that, many more churches in the area participated in Trunk or Treat activities for the children, as well as a huge sheng dig at Wards Lot here in Quincy, doing the same.

From where we sat, I could hear the closing announcements at Wards Lot coming out over an intercom; it was then that the traffic began to flow a bit. Given that, we wouldn’t see any monsters or princesses until well after 7pm and then they only came in chunks at the time, not the hundreds and hundreds of children I had personally witnessed in the past.

In the past I have mentioned how much different Halloween is these days compared to when my children were young enough to participate and most certainly compared to the stone ages when I was a child myself. But I do want to say one thing that maybe I haven’t mentioned before and that is this: there is a reason why the local police block off King Street, the main thoroughfare here in Quincy; they are trying to ensure everyone is safe and has a good time. So in that same vain, common sense should prevail on any other street that peels off of King Street. Parents, do not drive your children around from street to street, house to house. Park your cars, get out and walk.

I told my son that night as I watched car after car, pull up, let a gang of kids out, run up for their candy and jump back into the cars – that as a child, when my mom would take us trick or treating – we walked. She walked behind us, but we walked. And if at any point we started whining or complaining that we were tired, the night was declared over. Because if you were too tired to walk, then trick or treating was over for that year. There would be no driving us around in a vehicle to get to a full-bag quota. And besides all the above, it’s just not safe.

This last event was a two-for-one deal. The time changed this past weekend, we gained a whole hour of sleep and I, on that very same 2am morning, turned the Big Double Nickel! I got a whole extra hour of sleep for my 55^th birthday! And who needs more sleep than the woman who just rolled into another year of life beyond living a half of a century? I can’t think of anyone – can you?

The Aftermath

It was finally a nice Fall-feeling morning - and the timing just seemed right for it all; we cleaned up all the flower pots until next year; moved them to the back of the shed in the back yard where the mighty oaks will protect the Gerber roots until next Spring.

Cleaned out the Canna Lily bed; it might have made it a little bit longer had Michael not come thru and ripped it to shreds. I’ll pick up some straw this week and lay that bed to rest until next year as well. 

The Lantana beds seem to be having some sort of revitalization - second wind so to speak - so we’ll leave them for now as they are blooming all over again. 

I don’t see many birds these days but we refreshed all the feeders and took the hummingbird feeders down until next Spring. 

I still have a blank space in my front yard where my beautiful Drake Elm fell to its death. I’m sure Esposito’s will see me soon for a replacement.  My yard needs to be balanced and my porch screams for the shade it had just begun providing. I won’t be replacing my Red Maples and Sycamore - it just wouldn’t be the same.

And while I wax poetic about my lost trees, I am well aware that many, many people lost their homes, their personal affects, and lifetimes of memories. Some right here in Gadsden County, the outer-lying areas, still do not have power. The many, many linemen that are here helping from all over the place, are doing their very best, but in some cases, in the outer lying areas, there are so many trees down that getting through them has to be the first step/priority.

You can still ride around most anywhere in town and still see things that make you wonder if our little town will ever look the same again. The landscapes have definitely been altered and it’s a sad thought, but even with the re-planting of tree, many of us will not be here to see them reach their beautiful potential again.

The outreach that I seeing continue has just been amazing. I’ve always known that was the way our community was – but seeing it in full action, full force, day after day, has done nothing but to remind to me once again, why I choose to live in this small town without all the modern conveniences of a larger city. Family – we are all neighbors and family in times of need.

Since the storm my youngest son has worked sun-up to sun-down, running chain saws, skid steers and bobcats – whatever it takes to bring some normalcy back to his own neighborhood and many others.

Every single person I know is living these sudden life changes right now. Mourning what’s been taken and thankful for what remains. We’ve all been here long enough to know that life always goes on - we just have to make up our minds to follow the new path and make it work. And we can – because we’re Gadsden County folk – and we never back down from a challenge.