Is this the deluge?

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I'm probably not a “brilliant” writer, but I like to think I'm “gifted” on good day.

But lately (ever since The Election, if I'm honest), there haven't been that many; It's not that we didn't have good times, – there's always something to celebrate with kids (not to mention a dog and cat). But there was always something not quite right. We were waiting, not for the other shoe to drop, but for a whole display case of shoes to fall over.

This past winter was like a soggy spring or summer. The scarves and mittens stayed in the drawers, and Karen's boys never got to wear the snowsuits they'd gotten for Christmas. We watched White Christmas and A Christmas Story, hoping for real snow, but after a fall which didn't leave you feeling brisk drinking your Pumpkin Spice cocoa or latte in your autumnal turtleneck, I was worried.

Ed wanted to know why I was getting upset over weather. I said obsessing about trivia kept my mind off the real problems, not the least of which was feeling guilty because so many people had so many more problems.

We hoped that 2020 would fix things. But we should have know that a leap year with a full moon on Friday the thirteenth would be, as Kate said, “a real side trip on The Journey” or as Nikki put it, “Another f**king opportunity so make some different mistakes for a change.”

And we're off!

Making a Halloween Fashion Statement

This year, the kids are saluting the Addams family. Josh had thought of being Bernie Sanders; He could put powder in this hair and wear a Bernie t-shirt Janet had saved. He made a sign to put on his back that said, “I wrote the damn bill!” He even offered to change it to “d**n bill”, but I said some people might be offended and anyway, we didn't want anyone to think we were Socialists. Josh said that we shouldn't care what people think, especially if it isn't true. Cilla added that some Socialists were probably nice people and had kids “just like us.”

I finally said we could go to the costume store and get anything they wanted, as long as it wasn't the sexy version. So we went to the Halloween Holiday Ghostly “Boo-tique,” in an old Blockbuster building, where a very nice millennial vampire helped us “create a howling good Halloween.”



Cilla decided to be Morticia because the costume was pretty and Betsey picked Wednesday because she was a “badas . . .girl.” Josh will be Cousin Itt, who isn't that far from Senator Sanders. Our sales vampire asked if I wanted to be Grandmama, but I never dress up, much to the relief of Ed and the kids, although I do have a pair of cat ears, and if I feel very daring I draw whiskers on my face.



What the Heck, It's Halloween!



It may seem redundant to call Halloween “weird,” but this year it's weirder than usual. For one thing, people are still wearing shorts. Besides that, pumpkin spice food just doesn't taste the same. And when the wistful autumn songs come on the radio, I just snort.

Ed says I'm being ungrateful, and this winter I'll be wishing Joni Mitchell or somebody would call this October back for another month or so.  He's right, but I want to wear my sweaters. Some people are shoe people. I'm a sweater person. I also like socks with animals on them.

To add to the unreality, the grocery store had bags of candy corn, candy pumpkins, and “Autumn Mix,” which is regular and Native American corn and pumpkins. The drugstore also had small bags of “Maple Syrup” corn. Nobody, including the candy store, which has been around since my mother was a child,and maybe longer, carried the Halloween mix, which has yellow, banana-flavored moons and femurs, purple “salted caramel” skulls, the usual corn and pumpkins, “chocolate” cats and bats of such a dark brown they could be black, and small brown jugs, which were maple flavored. The kids always fight over those. I restrain myself.

Fortunately, I was able to find them on the Internet, where shipping was free for orders over twenty five dollars. I bought three bags and gave two to Karen and Nikki. They didn't have the jugs; I guess the maple candy corn replaced them, perhaps to stop fights. I went back to the drugstore and bought six bags. They were small.

Ed said that it was a triumph of technology that enabled me to refuse to keep up with advances in holiday junk food so we could rot our teeth with purple skulls.

I  said, “It's a tradition.” When I say that, everyone stops arguing.



 



Little Christmas

By Epiphany, we have the tree and the lights down, but we have a tradition of finishing the Christmas food that has lasted though the holidays: cranberry sauce, dips, fancy cheeses and crackers from the Intellectual Deli, the popcorn left in those giant tins, those cookies from Denmark that also come in tins, and the last of the English “biscuits,” that I get every year, along with the popping crackers and plum pudding. Every year I put little boxes of Barnum's Animal Crackers in the kids' stockings (like my mother put in mine and her mother had put in hers). The kids don't like them and Ed says they're a waste of money, but I tell everyone it's a tradition and that they shouldn't be curmudgeons.

So there are always animal crackers left. Cilla and Josh like to make the animals fight and dance around the cocoa cups and then dive in. Betsey likes to say say they are immature and tell me I'm letting them run wild. Well, at least she doesn't call them big morons anymore.

But over the years, things have changed. The boxes used to come with a string that you could use to hang them from the tree. Not they just have paper handles as part of the box. And this year, the animals are free range. They used to be in cages in a circus train car. Ed pointed this out and called it “another victory for animal rights.” I said it was a good thing, but I felt kind of bad about it, not to mention the string. Betsey snorted, Josh patted my shoulder, and Cilla says she's going to write to the company about the string.

 

 



Aunt Pooh's Hotdog Smorgasbord

 

 

 

Our discussion of hamburgers and ketchup ("That's So Charlie") reminded me of Aunt Pooh's International Hot Dog Buffet, which she would set out for me and my cousins.  It works for hamburgers too.

Hula dog:  a hotdog with ketchup and pineapple.  Say aloha to a real treat!

Fiesta Perro: salsa and cheese, loving wrapped in a tortilla!  Ole!

Ach du Lieber Hund: a frankfurter mit sauerkraut and cheese.

Good Ole Boy/Gal dog:  Add barbecue sauce for a southern treat!  Yee hah!

John Bull Dog:  A jolly good show with cheddar cheese and mustard!  If you can find chutney, it will add the mystery of India.

Godfather Dog:  Sprinkle Parmesan cheese over spaghetti sauce on your hot dog. They'll leave the gun and take the dog!

Puritan Dog:  Smother your dog with baked beans.  Even Cotton Mather would love it! 

Aunt Pooh told me that when my mother was three she wouldn't eat hotdogs because she thought they were made from dogs.  When my grandmother explained that they were called that because they looked like dachshunds, my mother said that was "stupid."  But she ate them.



Protest -- Perhaps a Parable?

There was going to be a protest at the college. I don't know what it was about; there are so many things to make people mad. Janet and Missy were going, but I forgot to ask them.

Karen said she'd like to go, but Tom told her he was not going to watch the boys for that, although he would be happy to do it if she wanted to go, shopping; hey, why didn't she go to lunch first? I asked her if that wasn't sexist and she looked sheepish, “But he really feels strongly about not being political. It's part of his self image. Anyway, I'm not going to turn down an afternoon to myself. Where do you want to go to eat?”

Nikki said that if the girls wanted to go, she would take them, but she didn't think they would and Chinese would be fun.

I said Cilla was too young and Betsey and Josh probably made other plans. Or I could bring the girls to lunch and Ed could have some quality time with Josh.

I told Ed about how nice Tom had been, and I also told him why. “Of course, I wouldn't go anyway, but Karen was disappointed and I wanted to be supportive,”

“Jesus.”

I wanted to keep the drama so a minimum, so I let it go, although I wondered what Jesus would have done.

But then, He never organized a protest or march, as far as I know. But then, I'm not a theologian.

So we had a very nice lunch (I had mu shu pork), I got a new scarf (black with red poppies), and the girls got new shirts (Hello Kitty playing tennis for Cilla and Wonderwoman for Betsey).

Janet called and said the protest had been awesome. When I asked here what it had been about, she giggled and said there was so much going on with all the leaflets and signs and singing, she really couldn't say.

This is so Charlie!

 

 

 

Ed and I have a rule that no media is allowed during dinner, The kids fussed about missing calls, “And it might be an emergency, Mom, like Grandpa's fallen and he can't get up.”

I said, “If  he can call us, he can call 911. Whoever it is can leave a message.”

I didn't tell them that when I was young, we didn't have voicemail, since we got it when I was ten. I knew I'd get a cross examination, if not the Spanish Inquisition.

This is what it can lead to:

 

I asked Ed if he put the ketchup on top of the cheese in a cheeseburger, or if he turned it over and put it on the meat,

He said he put it on top and added, “What difference does it make?”

Me: “ I'm just making conversation. That's all I've got.”

Josh: “That's a very original question, Mom, It's interesting to hear how other people do things.” (Seminary, here he comes!) “I put it on top.”

Cilla wanted to know why.

Betsey: 'Because he's too lazy to turn the bun over.” (Betsey was having a grilled cheese sandwich to help save some poor cow's life. Cilla said I was “spoiling her.” I said it was to make up for all the times Betsey thought I was spoiling her. )

Josh: “But maybe it makes the meat taste better. Of course you could put it on both sides.” (And it's going to be an Episcopal seminary!)

Ed: “Why not mustard?” (I don't know if he wanted to join in or if he was being provocative. I didn't care. It was communication.)

Cilla: “McDonald's mixes ketchup, mustard, and mayonnaise! Eeew!”

Josh: ”Everyone's entitled to their own opinion.”

Cilla:” I bet if we asked that guy who trashes all those restaurants on television, he'd have an opinion.”

Betsey: “Why don't you write a letter and ask him?”

Cilla: “Maybe I will. It would be very educational.”

Ed: “Well, Charlie do you turn your hamburger upside down? If anyone did, it would be you,”

 

 

Me: “Actually, I never did. Not to brag, but I'm probably the only person in the world who ever thought of it.”
 

“In the universe,” Cilla said proudly.