Here we are, smack-dab amid all the festivities. My wish is that your days are filled with kind visits and good cheer enroute to a happy holiday feast! My second wish is that my own festive gathering will be free of the mini calamities that seemed to haunt our Thanksgiving celebrations.
Although we had spent much time and effort to create a picture-perfect Thanksgiving weekend, it seemed in the end to be a slapstick comedy of errors! It was supposed to be sort of magical – my daughter and I had rented a remote cabin right next to our dearest friends for the weekend. All the dogs were going to romp and play happily in the picturesque setting, and we would cook a turkey feast in the rustic kitchen with the fireplace crackling nearby and the stream bubbling right outside. Sounds wonderful, right?
Well, these best-laid plans started hiccupping as soon our friends arrived a day early to begin roasting the turkey in their larger cabin. They promptly called to say they had forgotten many things that they hoped I would be able to cobble together from my own cupboards and bring along with me. One of the things they had left at home was the thread to sew the stuffing cavity together (like, people still do that?) and could I bring my sewing kit. Hmmm, sewing kit? I have a Naloxone kit ready to go in its prominent place in the glove box of my car, but do you think I could find a sewing kit? I managed to find a twine of thin wool that came with an extra button on a new sweater. Good enough.
Then the text came that they must have forgotten the special wine they had purchased specifically to go with dinner and could I stop for the bottle they like. This was followed by a text to ignore the original text, because one of them had placed the bottle in the cabin’s wine rack to add to the ambience. After a bit of bickering about this, they never did remember which one of them had done that. We began wondering what it’s going to be like for all of us in 10 years if we are having so much trouble with memory now?!
But it was me who provided the biggest drama to the whole shebang. My daughter has become THE gravy maker of our tribe, and in my family this is a coveted and renowned honour that she takes seriously. She had contemplated her plan of attack and prepared some of the important steps well in advance of the big Thanksgiving meal reveal. All was great, until it came time to stir it up at the cabin’s lovely kitchen, while the rest of us sat patiently at the formally set dining table nearby. Fire crackling, wine standing by and food growing cold, she stirred frantically and muttered something about roux and not working.
After she admitted defeat in her ability to thicken the sauce, she joined us at the table where we all proceeded to pour watery sweet liquid over our turkey dinners. In my rush to pack, I had grabbed a canister of icing sugar instead of flour. Yup, that actually happened and I was filled with a strange combination of both the hilarity and the panic of the moment. Turkey feast compromised (okay, some would say ruined), but alongside that disappointment was the knowledge that we had shared yet another of life’s dramatic moments that would go down in history.
After a few moments of stunned silence, our friends announced, ‘I know what book I’m getting you for Christmas. A thousand uses for icing sugar!’ May your holidays be filled with peace and joy, and the ability to laugh together when things don’t go according to plan!
Visit Sandy’s website at www.LifeInRetirement.ca