#73 - Turkey-day

There are several days a year when Americans do the similar or the same thing. Today is one of those days. In my family I can remember this day being pretty much the same since I was a little girl and my gramma would get up early on turkey-day, get the bird in the oven  super early then start prepping all the sides, or as they were known in our house, the fixins.  Yea, it was a southern thing.

Remembering those days brings a warm feeling to my soul and a smile to my heart.  My gramma, what a classy lady she was, full of life and spunk, beautiful yet humble, sweet as can be but stern when needed.  She was everything I wanted to be when I grew up. 

As the only real role model I had since my own mother was, well that's another story, my gramma gave me the strength I needed to endure pretty much anything. I can remember many dinners at her house, many times I helped her prepping for those meals and cleaning up after. I can remember watching her make pies and other yummies and hoping that some day I could do them just as good as she did.  Getting elbow deep in flour and making messes while trying to help but learning as much as I could.  Those were the days I want to hold onto from my childhood.

That spunky lady even went on after divorcing my grandfather in her 50s to go back to school, something he would not allow her to do when they were married, and get her nursing degree and go on to be a nurse.  She taught me to never give up on your dream.  Never let them see you cry.  Never expose your weak points.  Never ever let a man stop you from doing and being what you want. Always make sure your children come first in everything you do but do not let finishing that task be the end of it all.  Go on and continue living, continue gropwing, and never stop having fun. 

I still remember a photo of her whitewater rafting in her late 50s.  She did live.  Even remarrying later in life to a fabulous gentleman who treated her like the queen she was.  She was able to enjoy her life, have her cake and eat it too, so to speak.  Raising 4 children and surviving the early years of an abusive relationship then going on to become who she really wanted to be. 

Sitting here writing this, I am realizing for the first time just how much our lives mirrored each other.  I am just hoping that I have made her proud.  I hope that I am as strong as she was, have the courage she did to continue to push and push til I get to sit down and eat my cake.  I must thank her for all she gave me, for teaching me to never give up, to just survive until it's time to thrive, then go forward and conquer. 

So now that my bird is in the oven and I prepare to make the pies and all the sides, I feel a presence here with me, standing beside me as I prepare the meal I will share with my family.  I wonder how many other little girls are up helping their grammas make the feast we will all share today on this American holiday when we all do pretty much the same thing.

Happy Turkeyday.

#71 - Let the turkeys hit the floor

This morning I sit here with my arm wrapped up and throbbing, wishing I had listened to that lyric that has haunted me ever since.  Let the bodies hit the floor, let the bodies hit the floor.  Why is it that brilliant thoughts like that don't come to me until I have do something stupid?  Why did I just let the darn turkeys fall instead of trying to catch them?  Even the meat department guy said, 'you should have let them fall.  Then someone in management would see this is a bad setup.'  Duh!

OK, guess I should back up a minute and explain.  Ever notice how places like Wal-Mart have their meat department setup with shelves that are higher in the back so meat falls forward to the barrier in the front for easy shopping?  Well, our local Wal-Mart has this exact setup.  Problem is that they apparently have not set it up correctly or are using cheap materials and the front barrier is not as stable and strong as it needs to be, especially when they put things like 10-12 pound turkey breast which was apparently frozen with lots of 'juices' so when it was thawed was like a salmonella filled water balloon just waiting for a target.

So when I went there Monday night after playing an awesome match at my pool league, I picked up a few other things I needed and then decided to look for a turkey for the upcoming holiday dinner.  I stopped in the meat department started sifting through the turkey breasts when all hell broke lose, literally.  Next thing I knew my mommy instincts kicked in and I as trying to stop the nasty turkey balloons from hitting the floor and exploding all over my boots (and everything else in the area).  I'm sure everyone has seen those commercials of the pile of oranges or canned food that when one falls, they all fall, well, I could already see it happening and becoming a scene from a CSI episode with bodies and guts all over the floor.  Yes, I could already see it in my head and was trying to avoid the nasty chaos.

Glad to say that I did save my boots.  I did not have a salmonella filled turkey balloon explode all over the place but it was at the expense of my arm which I am now dealing with.  According to the doctor I did some really long titled thing to my elbow, no I don't remember what he called it, but essentially I pulled muscles in my elbow that extend from my ring and pinky fingers in my right hand.  This makes simple things like raising a glass (yea, I have been forced to learn to drink coffee with my left hand), getting dressed (if only I could just let the girls go free), and even starting my car (ignition on the right) very challenging to say the least.  Since I do not like taking medication I refused the prescription for the pain meds and anti-inflammatory pills the doc wanted me to take to make it easier to deal with.

The only thing I can do now is wait for it to heal.  I am now supposed to have it in a sling or wrapped to remind me not to use it.  I suck at being a patient, especially since it's just me so it makes daily tasks a little more challenging.  Not using my arm, especially with Thanksgiving coming up this week is really going to be, can we say difficult.   Turkey isn't gonna get out of the oven on it's own.  This might be the year we see how many restaurants are open, ya know like in the movies.  Maybe Chinese or Thai for Thanksgiving.  Hmmm, that's a thought.

Oh well, moral of this story is, LET THE TURKEYS HIT THE FLOOR.  Hopefully next time I will remember lyrics of a song instead of letting the mommy-brain engage.  It may be safer.