Being Thankful
I had planned to come here on Thanksgiving and let you know how thankful I am to have all of you on LJ in my life. Mama always said, however, that it is never too late to say thank you, so...
T*H*A*N*K Y*O*U*!!!
You enrich my life in so many ways.
Thanksgiving is one of my two favorite hoidays -- the other is Passover -- and this year turned out to be an especially rewarding and consoling holiday, thanks mainly to my son, John, and his wife, Pam, two of the smiling faces in my icon. (The third is Samantha.) I was reminded that even when you hit a rough patch, family helps smooth it out.
This year my Thanksgiving started on Wednesday evening or, as we say in my house, Erev Thanksgiving. At age 71, my sister, Debbie, very wisely no longer drives so she is dependent on New Jersey Transit to get from her home in Barrington, NJ to Philadelphia. For reasons neither of us can figure out, NJT truncates the 455 bus route on Sundays and holidays. It stops at Deptford Mall, NJ, several miles before Barrington even though you would think the latter half of its route was the more important part. It includes, besides a very important stop at Barrington Mews, the route's only stop at a PATCO light rail station to get to Philadelphia. So on Wednesday afternoon she packed a small bag and came on over.
As a small treat from us to us, we went around the corner to Percy Street BBQ for dinner. The two of us go out for lunch frequently, but since Percy Street is only open for lunch on Saturdays and Sundays, we don't get there very often. We both love barbeque, having done much of our growing up in Arkansas and Oklahoma. Afterwards we went across the street and had frozen yogurt for dessert. We took our time over our meal, chatting, so we got home with just enough time to watch the last two episodes of "Last Week Tonight with John Oliver" before Debbie was ready to sack out on my living room couch. Debbie had never seen John Oliver before, and of course she loved his show. She is almost as progressive as I am.
Note to self: Remember to rewatch the end of his final, post-election show and make a note of some of the organizations he recommends supporting in our post-election world. I already give to Planned Parenthood, the ACLU, and the Southern Poverty Law Center every month, but I think I can squeeze another one or two organizations into my monthly budget. I want to add an organization that supports the environment, at the minimum.
John and Pam had invited her family for Thanksgiving dinner this year; last year they had my family over. They were gracious enough to include Samantha, Debbie, and me, however. I did whine a bit, first, which may have influenced their decision. Our trip to John and Pam's was supposed to be my first Uber ride...Samantha set up the app on my phone...but when Sam put in our coordinates, the price that popped up was $44. No way, Jose. I figured a taxi would cost less, so we flagged down a cab instead: you can always get a cab on Lombard Street in less than five minutes. The cab was cheaper: $31, including at 20% tip. Debbie took her over-night bag with her because she was sleeping over at John and Pam's that night. Samantha had off from all her jobs this weekend, and she had heavy duty TV watching scheduled, starting after we got home on Thursday. For reasons that are not clear to me, she strongly prefers to watch in the living room even though she has a 32" TV in her bedroom. John, Pam, and Debbie were all on board with the arrangement, and Samantha was delighted. Pretty much a win/win.
Besides us three, Pam's brothers Sam and Evan were there, Sam's wife Yvonne, Pam's father Steve and his wife, Phoebe, and a college friend of Pam's whose name I don't remember. Pam and John served a heaping platter of turkey, two kinds of stuffing (with and without sausage), mashed potatoes, gravy, two kinds of sweet potatoes (with and without marshmellows), carrots, and green beans. The only thing Pam and John didn't make was the gravy. Her brother Evan, a chef, made that. There was so much that I didn't even get to taste everything on the table.
In the past I've felt sort of shut out of Pam's family's interactions, but this time everybody was welcoming and inclusive. I think that is because Steve's sister Judy and her dweeb son, Justin, didn't come in from NYC. Judy is still so depressed about the results of the election that she isn't socializing at all yet. She was planning on picking up a sandwich from her deli for dinner. I don't know what the dweeb was doing...probably going to his father's. (Judy and her ex live in the same apartment building in the West Village.) The dweeb was at Pam's 50th birthday party in October, and he is still acting like a sulky 15-year-old: he must be at least 25. Both of Pam's brothers are also subject to depression, but Evan was down-right out-going and fun. Sam was very quiet, and Pam said it was because he hadn't gotten over Trump yet, but he isn't ever lively, so I couldn't really tell the difference.
At about 8:00, the doorbell rang. It was my son, Alan, and his intended, Olga, popping in to deliver brownies Olga had made for Samantha. With them were Olga's aged mother, her mother's next door neighbor Debbie, and Debbie's teenaged son (a little awkward but a nice boy). They had all celebrated Thanksgiving in Flemington, NJ - considerably north of Philadelphia - and were on their way home to Vineland, NJ - considerably south of Philadelphia - but I think Alan really wanted to check in with Samantha and the rest of his family. They were supposed to just hit and run, but ended up staying for dessert. We had three pies for dessert: chocolate ganache, bourbon pecan, and apple. I think we managed to eat every lick of the first two.
Olga's mother must be pushing 90 -- if she isn't, she really hasn't aged well -- but had no problem telling me she'd like a piece of pie and a drink. I got her a glass of prosecco-and-apple-juice punch because I really hadn't understood that she wanted vodka. Between her Russian accent and the noisy room (in a very good way), I had a hard time understanding her.
Sam and I left around 9:30, shortly after Alan and his group left for Vineland. This time we did get an Uber; it cost $19; you don't tip.
On Friday, about noon, John, Pam, and Debbie picked me up, and we drove down to Salisbury, MD to see the Cousins. (Lara Cousins is my niece, my other sister's daughter.) This visit was a Big Deal. The Cousins have been up to Philadelphia any number of times since we started getting together after we understood that we had a common enemy: Lara's mother and my sister, Judy. They come up every holiday plus random visits. However, when Lara asked if it would be convenient if they came up on Friday, Pam said no. She wasn't up to it, after the debauch of the day before.
Sam didn't go with us, although she was dying to see their house. She had long standing plans to get together for a girl's day out with Julie, her aunt Cheris, and Cheris' BFF, so she couldn't join us. The Cousins live in Salisbury only because Steve is chief IT manager for Tyson Chicken. Believe me, you wouldn't live there for any other reason. It is in the middle of nowhere...and not even a scenic nowhere. Flat, flat, flat fields for miles around. It took us a little over three hours to get to their house at an average speed of 51.5 mph (thank you, GPS). Not only is Salisbury isolated, but their house isn't in Salisbury. It's out on a country road with no other house in sight. It's a compact-appearing house that is surprisingly roomy: two-story with seven rooms that could be used as bedrooms. They use three of them as offices. Steve does a lot of his work from home, Lara runs an on-line business, and the final 'office' is a junk room. They need lots of room for the three kids -- Ella, 21; Eddie, 17; and Nicole, 13 -- and their five dogs. (More on the dogs later.)
Nicole Cousins
When we got there, Lara was out picking up crabs. She came back with a bushel basket full of them, corn on the cob (I don't know where it came from, at this time of year: it was succulent), shrimp (over-cooked), and clams in the shell. We ate the crabs Maryland-style. Steve and Lara had moved the dining room table and the kitchen table out to the enclosed and heated sunporch. The tables were covered with sheets of paper, and Lara just dumped the crabs out of the basket and on to the table. Then we all sat down and picked crabs for a couple of hours. They were so tasty, right out of the steamer. Lara has brought crabs up to us before, but there is such a difference in taste when they are very very fresh. I didn't count how many crabs I ate, but I think it was about six or eight...and I was a piker. I also had two of ears of corn. Yum, yum, yum.
I sat across from Eddie. I've never gotten him to say more than a couple of words to me, but this time.... He is a hoot. Very sharp young man with lots of quietly expressed but very funny opinions.
When we were done eating finally, Lara insisted on just shutting the doors to the sun porch and leaving the mess to be cleaned up later. We went into the big kitchen and got to know the dogs. There is a big black mongrel, a sweet girl; a small black pug with a paralyzed rear end (doesn't seem to bother her at all); a feisty, long-haired Chihuahua who tries to bully all the other dogs; and a pair of Shiba puppies.
A tired Shiba puppy.
What is amazing about all these dogs is how well-behaved they all are, even the two puppies. Those two, which will be around 20 lbs when fully grown, do jump up on people, but they are easily discouraged. In fact, what they seem to want is to be picked up and held. For strong little dogs, they sure are cuddlers. I'm not usually a fan of multiple pets, but the Cousins' collection convinced me it can work, although not in my house.
Lara with her plucky little pug dog.
We left around 7:00. The trip home was longer because we had to go via Barrington, NJ, and drop Debbie off. She just had the best time ever, those two days. I enjoyed myself, too, but it was a bigger deal for Debbie, who could find herself isolated in Barrington...although she has made friends there.
We'll have a hard time matching this holiday at Hanukkah which will again be at John and Pam's. I've off-loaded all family gatherings on them. FanSee
T*H*A*N*K Y*O*U*!!!
You enrich my life in so many ways.
Thanksgiving is one of my two favorite hoidays -- the other is Passover -- and this year turned out to be an especially rewarding and consoling holiday, thanks mainly to my son, John, and his wife, Pam, two of the smiling faces in my icon. (The third is Samantha.) I was reminded that even when you hit a rough patch, family helps smooth it out.
This year my Thanksgiving started on Wednesday evening or, as we say in my house, Erev Thanksgiving. At age 71, my sister, Debbie, very wisely no longer drives so she is dependent on New Jersey Transit to get from her home in Barrington, NJ to Philadelphia. For reasons neither of us can figure out, NJT truncates the 455 bus route on Sundays and holidays. It stops at Deptford Mall, NJ, several miles before Barrington even though you would think the latter half of its route was the more important part. It includes, besides a very important stop at Barrington Mews, the route's only stop at a PATCO light rail station to get to Philadelphia. So on Wednesday afternoon she packed a small bag and came on over.
As a small treat from us to us, we went around the corner to Percy Street BBQ for dinner. The two of us go out for lunch frequently, but since Percy Street is only open for lunch on Saturdays and Sundays, we don't get there very often. We both love barbeque, having done much of our growing up in Arkansas and Oklahoma. Afterwards we went across the street and had frozen yogurt for dessert. We took our time over our meal, chatting, so we got home with just enough time to watch the last two episodes of "Last Week Tonight with John Oliver" before Debbie was ready to sack out on my living room couch. Debbie had never seen John Oliver before, and of course she loved his show. She is almost as progressive as I am.
Note to self: Remember to rewatch the end of his final, post-election show and make a note of some of the organizations he recommends supporting in our post-election world. I already give to Planned Parenthood, the ACLU, and the Southern Poverty Law Center every month, but I think I can squeeze another one or two organizations into my monthly budget. I want to add an organization that supports the environment, at the minimum.
John and Pam had invited her family for Thanksgiving dinner this year; last year they had my family over. They were gracious enough to include Samantha, Debbie, and me, however. I did whine a bit, first, which may have influenced their decision. Our trip to John and Pam's was supposed to be my first Uber ride...Samantha set up the app on my phone...but when Sam put in our coordinates, the price that popped up was $44. No way, Jose. I figured a taxi would cost less, so we flagged down a cab instead: you can always get a cab on Lombard Street in less than five minutes. The cab was cheaper: $31, including at 20% tip. Debbie took her over-night bag with her because she was sleeping over at John and Pam's that night. Samantha had off from all her jobs this weekend, and she had heavy duty TV watching scheduled, starting after we got home on Thursday. For reasons that are not clear to me, she strongly prefers to watch in the living room even though she has a 32" TV in her bedroom. John, Pam, and Debbie were all on board with the arrangement, and Samantha was delighted. Pretty much a win/win.
Besides us three, Pam's brothers Sam and Evan were there, Sam's wife Yvonne, Pam's father Steve and his wife, Phoebe, and a college friend of Pam's whose name I don't remember. Pam and John served a heaping platter of turkey, two kinds of stuffing (with and without sausage), mashed potatoes, gravy, two kinds of sweet potatoes (with and without marshmellows), carrots, and green beans. The only thing Pam and John didn't make was the gravy. Her brother Evan, a chef, made that. There was so much that I didn't even get to taste everything on the table.
In the past I've felt sort of shut out of Pam's family's interactions, but this time everybody was welcoming and inclusive. I think that is because Steve's sister Judy and her dweeb son, Justin, didn't come in from NYC. Judy is still so depressed about the results of the election that she isn't socializing at all yet. She was planning on picking up a sandwich from her deli for dinner. I don't know what the dweeb was doing...probably going to his father's. (Judy and her ex live in the same apartment building in the West Village.) The dweeb was at Pam's 50th birthday party in October, and he is still acting like a sulky 15-year-old: he must be at least 25. Both of Pam's brothers are also subject to depression, but Evan was down-right out-going and fun. Sam was very quiet, and Pam said it was because he hadn't gotten over Trump yet, but he isn't ever lively, so I couldn't really tell the difference.
At about 8:00, the doorbell rang. It was my son, Alan, and his intended, Olga, popping in to deliver brownies Olga had made for Samantha. With them were Olga's aged mother, her mother's next door neighbor Debbie, and Debbie's teenaged son (a little awkward but a nice boy). They had all celebrated Thanksgiving in Flemington, NJ - considerably north of Philadelphia - and were on their way home to Vineland, NJ - considerably south of Philadelphia - but I think Alan really wanted to check in with Samantha and the rest of his family. They were supposed to just hit and run, but ended up staying for dessert. We had three pies for dessert: chocolate ganache, bourbon pecan, and apple. I think we managed to eat every lick of the first two.
Olga's mother must be pushing 90 -- if she isn't, she really hasn't aged well -- but had no problem telling me she'd like a piece of pie and a drink. I got her a glass of prosecco-and-apple-juice punch because I really hadn't understood that she wanted vodka. Between her Russian accent and the noisy room (in a very good way), I had a hard time understanding her.
Sam and I left around 9:30, shortly after Alan and his group left for Vineland. This time we did get an Uber; it cost $19; you don't tip.
On Friday, about noon, John, Pam, and Debbie picked me up, and we drove down to Salisbury, MD to see the Cousins. (Lara Cousins is my niece, my other sister's daughter.) This visit was a Big Deal. The Cousins have been up to Philadelphia any number of times since we started getting together after we understood that we had a common enemy: Lara's mother and my sister, Judy. They come up every holiday plus random visits. However, when Lara asked if it would be convenient if they came up on Friday, Pam said no. She wasn't up to it, after the debauch of the day before.
Sam didn't go with us, although she was dying to see their house. She had long standing plans to get together for a girl's day out with Julie, her aunt Cheris, and Cheris' BFF, so she couldn't join us. The Cousins live in Salisbury only because Steve is chief IT manager for Tyson Chicken. Believe me, you wouldn't live there for any other reason. It is in the middle of nowhere...and not even a scenic nowhere. Flat, flat, flat fields for miles around. It took us a little over three hours to get to their house at an average speed of 51.5 mph (thank you, GPS). Not only is Salisbury isolated, but their house isn't in Salisbury. It's out on a country road with no other house in sight. It's a compact-appearing house that is surprisingly roomy: two-story with seven rooms that could be used as bedrooms. They use three of them as offices. Steve does a lot of his work from home, Lara runs an on-line business, and the final 'office' is a junk room. They need lots of room for the three kids -- Ella, 21; Eddie, 17; and Nicole, 13 -- and their five dogs. (More on the dogs later.)
Nicole Cousins
When we got there, Lara was out picking up crabs. She came back with a bushel basket full of them, corn on the cob (I don't know where it came from, at this time of year: it was succulent), shrimp (over-cooked), and clams in the shell. We ate the crabs Maryland-style. Steve and Lara had moved the dining room table and the kitchen table out to the enclosed and heated sunporch. The tables were covered with sheets of paper, and Lara just dumped the crabs out of the basket and on to the table. Then we all sat down and picked crabs for a couple of hours. They were so tasty, right out of the steamer. Lara has brought crabs up to us before, but there is such a difference in taste when they are very very fresh. I didn't count how many crabs I ate, but I think it was about six or eight...and I was a piker. I also had two of ears of corn. Yum, yum, yum.
I sat across from Eddie. I've never gotten him to say more than a couple of words to me, but this time.... He is a hoot. Very sharp young man with lots of quietly expressed but very funny opinions.
When we were done eating finally, Lara insisted on just shutting the doors to the sun porch and leaving the mess to be cleaned up later. We went into the big kitchen and got to know the dogs. There is a big black mongrel, a sweet girl; a small black pug with a paralyzed rear end (doesn't seem to bother her at all); a feisty, long-haired Chihuahua who tries to bully all the other dogs; and a pair of Shiba puppies.
A tired Shiba puppy.
What is amazing about all these dogs is how well-behaved they all are, even the two puppies. Those two, which will be around 20 lbs when fully grown, do jump up on people, but they are easily discouraged. In fact, what they seem to want is to be picked up and held. For strong little dogs, they sure are cuddlers. I'm not usually a fan of multiple pets, but the Cousins' collection convinced me it can work, although not in my house.
Lara with her plucky little pug dog.
We left around 7:00. The trip home was longer because we had to go via Barrington, NJ, and drop Debbie off. She just had the best time ever, those two days. I enjoyed myself, too, but it was a bigger deal for Debbie, who could find herself isolated in Barrington...although she has made friends there.
We'll have a hard time matching this holiday at Hanukkah which will again be at John and Pam's. I've off-loaded all family gatherings on them. FanSee