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| Some people get to eat at the table. |
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| Flannery O'Connor would be proud as a... |
We
finally got our first snow on the Row, so it's beginning
to look a lot like Christmas on the farm. Today, it’s a balmy -4
degrees. But let’s backtrack...
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| Pies or museum pieces? |
Thanksgiving
at Mom’s was excellent. All three of my brothers made it—from Kansas, Ohio, and
Ecuador. My Ohio brother brought his lovely Russian partner for her first
Prescher Thanksgiving. (Bringing a new partner to his or her initial Prescher
gatherings is always a test of true love and endurance.) She’s been to a BBFR (Big
Bohunk Family Reunion - http://uncanneryrow.blogspot.com/2012/08/big-fat-bohunk-family-reunion-2012.html)
and Thanksgiving now, so she’s officially part of the family. And once you’re
in, there’s no escaping. Ever. My Kansas brother—who jumped in his car and came
up to check on me right after BS, bless his heart—brought his sweet redheaded
Farkle family, and my Ecuadorean brother came solo, since his wife was visiting
her mom in Arkansas. Two of our four kids and one of our three grandkids were
there. Our son-in-love spatchcocked the turkey, which might have been the best
I ever tasted, and my daughter’s chocolate and cherry pies were works of art.
There was more food than we could possibly eat, TV football was a constant
drone in the background, and 3-year-old Clyde entertained non-stop.
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| Peacock tree, angel choir, coffee cup quilt, Buddha. |
It
was really funny to see all four of us Prescher siblings together—one
recovering from a stroke, one recuperating and half-blind from 4 or 5 detached
retina surgeries, one with a bad back, In our decrepitude (or because of it),
we were incredibly grateful to be celebrating another holiday together. We’re
also at the age now where our conversations sound like bad standup routines
about retirement plans, medical procedures, and faulty body parts. Oy…
Anyway,
piles of turkey sandwiches, vats of creamed turkey, a mountain of turkey salad,
and sixty gallons of turkey soup later, we’re well into Christmas prep. The tree
is decorated, Grandma’s ceramic Christmas plates and angel choir are out, my
Bob Penn print, “Sisters,” has been temporarily replaced by the coffee cup
Christmas quilt Ray’s sister made us, the house is all a’glitter with twinkly
lights, much of the shopping & wrapping is done, and the freezer is stocked
with cookies. Christmas will be cozy. Mom, all three grandkids and three of our
four kids will be here (the oldest kid is leaving next week to spend the winter
living & skiing in Utah). There WILL be oyster stew, Chex mix, sticky green
holly cookies, and monkey bread. I’m thrilled the grandkids are coming and that
I get to shop for loud, silly toys because really, there’s nothing like
Christmas morning mayhem to warm the heart.
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| довольно людей, глупые шляпы |
2012
has been quite a year. Between Ray’s 2nd heart attack, my BS (double
entendre SO appropriate), the drought, the tragic Peafowl Vanishing and consequent
epic fail of the Great White Raccoon Hunters (http://uncanneryrow.blogspot.com/2012/11/the-case-of-disappearing-peafowl.html),
I’ve been antisocial, fractured & moody lately. Ho ho frickin’ ho. Let’s
just hope we’re wrong about that Mayan end-of-the-world business, because that
might just push me over the edge (cue hysterical cackle)…
2012
has been quite a year. Between Ray’s 2nd heart attack, my BS (double
entendre SO appropriate), the drought, the tragic Peafowl Vanishing and consequent
epic fail of the Great White Raccoon Hunters (http://uncanneryrow.blogspot.com/2012/11/the-case-of-disappearing-peafowl.html),
I’ve been antisocial, fractured & moody lately. Ho ho frickin’ ho. Let’s
just hope we’re wrong about that Mayan end-of-the-world business, because that
might just push me over the edge (cue hysterical cackle)…
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