What a fantastic Thanksgiving! Mom and Dad drove up from their mission in New Jersey to be here for the occasion. We had three of our most fabulous friends join us which rounded things out perfectly. This was only the second turkey I've made in my life and it was a 25-pounder we called Herman. I followed the advice of friends and brined the sucker. Those first "test" bites were practically dripping with moist deliciousness and we've been loving the ample leftovers ever since. One of the perks of hosting Thanksgiving is you get to call the time it's served. I didn't want to get up at 6:00 AM to start working on the turkey so I established 5 PM as the bewitching hour. We had a long, leisurely day to prepare the food and the house for entertaining. This is the first year we had our complete china set (including the gravy boat!) and the table looked fabulous if I do say so myself. Thanksgiving was also a special day because it was Mom's birthday. Every so often they fall on the same date and it just adds extra oomph to the festivities. Instead of traditional pumpkin or pecan pie we had tri-layer red velvet cake from Irving's in New Jersey. YUM! Mom has a way with people and she really got a deal on it. Sadly the candles didn't make it through much of the songs and there was one corner of the cake that had an ember burning a hole in it. Still, it's a Nielsen tradition to sing absolutely every birthday song you know, so in the end she only had one candle to blow out.
Even with all the kitchen duties I had snippets of time to ponder on my blessings. I was surrounded by family and good friends not to mention some of my favorite foods. We had wonderful conversation and it may sound ridiculous, but I'm grateful to have a day just to eat good food and give thanks. Thank you Thanksgiving Day!
I have certain given talents: finding a fabulous makeup product that will inevitably be discontinued, remembering images but not names or any attendant information that would allow me to look it up later and extremely expensive taste. When I go shopping I can look at a whole rack of clothes and only find one thing I like... and that one item will be the most expensive thing there. No that I'm a snob, I don't even look at the price tag until after perusing the merchandise. For some reason my taste tends to cost a pretty penny.
At home I have a piggy bank where I toss my spare change. When the pig is feeling heavy I put it into rolls and head to the bank at which point I can use it towards anything I like. This money is "off the books" in accountant lingo. Brent and I have a don't ask, don't tell policy when it comes to those funds. It's no small chunk of change either; the last time I emptied it I had over $75 in there. I've designated this money towards my shoe fettish. Currently the pig is fat so I thought I'd peruse zappos.com and I found these:
I LOVE THEM!!! They're just my style: a sassy twist on a classic Mary Jane. Of course, they're ridiculously expensive. Now if only I could turn this talent into something useful...
If I could do high school over again I'd take the auto mechanic class offered at City High. As a teenager I erroneously assumed that course was only for grease monkeys without enough brains and determination to pursue higher education. Obviously I was going to better myself and contribute to society at a white-collar level so that course wasn't for me. Well, I can tell you I don't remember a dang thing from my trig class. I know sine, cosine and there's another one but I couldn't tell you what they're for. I think they spin in circles or something and you graph them to prove... something. The auto mechanic class on the other hand? That's something I bet I'd use at least twice a week at least!
Not that I'm completely ignorant when it comes to cars. If something is wrong I know it's either gas or electrical. Get the oil changed regularly and don't grind the engine if it doesn't start right away. Cold weather is the death of many a battery. Righty tighty, lefty loosey. So yeah, not completely ignorant. In my lifetime I've actually spent quite a bit of time in hardware and auto parts stores. When my mother had occasion to frequent a True Value or Napa Auto Parts store she'd have me brush my hair and put on some lip balm. She insisted she received better customer service when I came along.
I've taken my cues from my mother and when something minor goes wrong with the car I prefer to buy the part and figure it out myself. After all it's a car, not rocket science. Recently the driver's side headlight burned out on our Nissan so I was off to AutoZone. How hard could it be? Right. First I couldn't figure out how to get the hood to stay up. I looked and looked for the wire thingy that would keep it from crashing down on my head to no avail. After a bit of investigation I figured out how to screw off the socket. Then there was the matter of getting the old light bulb itself out of the casing. Not so easy. There was a plastic piece that said "PUSH" with an arrow. I pushed and pushed and pushed. I pushed longer than I did giving birth to Liesel and this thing didn't budge.
My frustration was rising as the sun slipped lower and lower in the sky and I balanced the hood on my back while I worked. Finally I resorted to a screwdriver to help wedge the thing out.
Caveat: the few times I worked one on one with my dad in the garage I was introduced to a whole symphony of four letter words. Generally a pious man, he swore like a longshoreman when working on one of the cars. It was not a bit perplexing and somewhat frightening to see him this way and I never quite understood why it happened when he worked in the garage. Lucky for me, Dad was somewhat sexist and it was usually the boys who had to change the oil and replace the brakes. Girls could stay in the house with Mom.
Back to the headlight. My anger with the light bulb hit a fevered pitch and I started muttering under my breath. Then I let out short bursts of profanity like I had tourrettes. Finally I mustered all my strength and screamed "YOU! PIECE! OF! MONKEY! $#@*!!!!" and out popped the lightbulb.
I guess I understand a little better why Dad swore whenever he worked on a car. My only regret is I could have learned that back in high school.
The mind of a quilter is a curious thing. I find inspiration for my creations in the most bizarre things: a leaf, a quote, a new stage of life, etc. Since I broke both my arms, quilting has gone by the wayside for me but the passion is still there. My sisters called with a quilting question which led me to thumb through some of my books and the ideas came flooding back. I have half a dozen projects in my mind but I'm having a hard time narrowing them down into THE project. Winter is hard on the heels of Fall and I need to have a good project to hunker down with when the blizzards blow outside my window.
Some women make tons of tiny baby blankets... and they give them away. Other women fixate on one pattern and make 3 quilts in different colors... and then give them away. Me? I make one or possibly two incredibly difficult quilts a year. I pick something way beyond my skill level and relentlessly work to make my vision into a tactile reality. My quilts only come in two sizes: large and huge. And if you've ever managed to receive one of my creations as a gift... well, count yourself lucky because I RARELY give them away. Blood sweat and tears go into every one not to mention a pretty penny. So these are the ideas I have floating around my mind:
A Hawaiian Breadbasket in red and white with dupioni silk. I want to do the backing in a French toile (red and white obviously). The Hawaiians believe when you quilt you leave a piece of your soul behind in the quilt. It would have to be done entirely by hand... applique (which I hate) and echo quilting (which would take forever). I don't know what I'm thinking, but this project calls to me.
A Sunbonnet Sue Gone Bad: I've referenced this in an earlier blog post but those ideas still rattle around my brain. The Yankees fan Sue especially. The Word of Wisdom Sue. I don't know, they're begging to be made. Again, lots of applique (which I still hate). This quilt would be a sort of exorcism because really, I can't stand the Sunbonnet Sue quilts.
A Stack N Whack: Back when I attended quilt guild with the blue-haired bitties one of the month's presenters talked about stack n whack quilts. They look amazing and are supposedly incredibly easy. All you really have to do is find the right patterned fabric and the result is a kaleidoscope-esque creation. One of the things I love about quilting is definitely the fabric. I hold it, stroke it, pet it, listen to it (different fabrics say different things to me, no lie) and most importantly OBEY it. Never go against what a fabric wants done. If you don't you destroy it's life destiny... and yours.
I need help here! What's your vote? Which one should I pursue?
Generally I don't like to get into controversial topics on my blog. I always say I like to keep my private life private. Unlike so many of the Hollywood crowd, I don't have delusions of grandeur and think everyone's just dying to hear my political leanings. If someone wants to know my opinion, they'll ask me for it in a private forum where we can discuss our views respectfully. However, recent events have led me with a strong desire to put my two cents out there and well, this is as good a place as any. I don't like daylight savings.
The first reason I don't like it is because not everyone abides by it. What's up Arizona? And that little section of Indiana? The fact they're not required to participate makes me feel like I'm 11 all over again and one of my siblings got out of cleaning the kitchen. Taking my case to my parents all I heard was to stop complaining because, "Parents don't care about justice, they only care about peace." Suddenly I was the bad person! Whateva. This should be an all or nothing thing, no one is above the law.
Secondly, I'm not a fan of daylight savings because everyone whines about it. Yes, it's dark at night... that's not totally out of the norm and it's worse in Antarctica for crying out loud!!! Besides, if you don't like it just move to Arizona or that little section of Indiana. Both those places have a lot of uhhh, hmmm... well the clock doesn't change so there you go.
Finally, figuring out the whole fall back/spring forward/lose an hour/gain an hour just makes no sense. Am I sleeping in or waking up early? That's all I want to know. "Falling back" makes me want an extended daylight savings which pushes the clock forward (or is it backward?) an hour every week. That extra hour comes in handy for the parents of a little baby. So don't tease me by doing it once a year and then brutally taking it back. Rude.
Okay, sorry if this was a sensitive topic for some of you but I just had to raise my voice!!!
Fake crying, creeping (not quite crawling), fresh and clean, dreaming of baptism (note the hand position), "fauxhawk" hairdo, hanging out on Mom and Dad's bed, cutie pie first thing in the morning, Halloween costume at daycare, visiting Hazel at the nursing home, really sick of the costume by the end of the day, casual Sunday afternoon, snowbunny sweater
I've noticed in my short career as a married woman almost every couple has something quirky their "into." For example, we have some fabulous friends who are into their pet skunk. Friends like these come in handy when you discover a ginormous skunk in your yard. My sister and her husband are really into Michael Jackson. They can both dress like him, dance like him and have a plethora of his lyrics memorized. My parents are into irritating their children. No lie, they delight in twitting us by getting common phrases wrong like "It was to DIE from!" when describing something wonderful. For Brent and I it's all things organization-related, the Thai food from King and I and the show So You Think You Can Dance?
When Brent and I were pre-marriage, Reagan introduced us to the show while the Nielsen family was vacationing in the Outer Banks. For us, it was one of those shows that watching once was all it took. The guy who ended up winning that season was a west-coast swing dancer named Benji and he was Mormon. The next season his sister Lacey was in the final four. Heading into this season we were ready with our recordable DVDs to capture the entire thing from the try-outs to the finale. By far, this was the best season to date.
We were both immediately captivated by Joshua, the hip-hop dancer who went on to win the whole thing. He came from a poor background. He quit football and cleaned dance studios to "pay" for his classes. He cried whenever he made it to another level of the competition. Others in his genre usually petered out when they were hit with a ballroom or contemporary number but he did the salsa in his tight pants like he'd been doing it all his life. He gave everything he had into every number he was given from Broadway to contemporary and we were continually blown away. Joshua literally MADE me pick up the phone and vote for him... he was just that good.
Imagine my excitement when Brent announced he'd gotten us tickets to the tour as a combined anniversary/birthday present. I'd get to see my favorite numbers LIVE and by the people who made them water-cooler fodder. The best part was that we'd be doing it together and only we understood how much this meant to the other. It was beyond amazing! Seeing the dances on TV from 5 different camera angles highlighted the entertainment value of the show. The tour highlighted the athleticism. I don't think you'd see the idiots with no dance background trying out every year who think they'd just "give it a shot" if everyone saw them in person.
Aside from seeing my favorite dancer, I saw my favorite dress: Kherington's white, biased-cut ballroom dress she wore doing the Viennese Waltz to A New Day with Twitch. I saw plenty from my favorite choreographers: Tabitha and Napoleon who have been working together for 12 years and married for 10. You can FEEL their commitment to each other in their pieces. I saw my favorite group routine: the Mia Michael's black and white circus-type dance. I even got to see Mark do his solo to Bohemian Rhapsody that propelled him into the Top 20 and yes, it's even better live. Of the many, many, many routines we saw these are my very favorites (nota bene: the videos are longer than the dances. The commentary by the dancers is worth a gander because you get a hint of their personality but skip the judges critique afterwards):
Joshua and Katee when they first caught our eye. It still makes me tingle when I see him go up over his toes:
Chelsea and Mark, Bleeding Love. This one got the biggest applause from the tour:
Twitch and Joshua's Trepak (love the smack talk):
I don't want to clog the blog but if you've never seen the show and you'd like more, I highly recommend those mentioned above as well as:
Mark and Comfort's Detention Kherington and Twitch's Prison Break Courtney and Mark's The Garden Comfort and Twitch's Hip-Hop Chelsea and Mark's Tim Burton's Wedding Katee and Joshua's Lyrical Katee and Twitch's Door
Heck, just come over and watch the whole season again with us! Unless of course, you think it's just to weird to get into.
Thanksgiving was also a special day because it was Mom's birthday. Every so often they fall on the same date and it just adds extra oomph to the festivities. Instead of traditional pumpkin or pecan pie we had tri-layer red velvet cake from Irving's in New Jersey. YUM! Mom has a way with people and she really got a deal on it. Sadly the candles didn't make it through much of the songs and there was one corner of the cake that had an ember burning a hole in it. Still, it's a Nielsen tradition to sing absolutely every birthday song you know, so in the end she only had one candle to blow out. 
