My favorite day of the year... in Secrets from myself

  • Nov. 29, 2013, 11:14 a.m.
  • |
  • Public

When I worked at my old old job I always had the Friday after Thanksgiving off. It was a union negotiated holiday and the company went along with it for the people in the office too. Since my old old workplace went under five years ago I've pretty much still had the day off. The first year I wasn't working and the next three years at my new old workplace I was seasonally laid off so the day after Thanksgiving was just one of a string of days off. Two years ago I was called back the Monday before Thanksgiving for three weeks. The three weeks turned into almost two years without a layoff. I suppose we worked the Friday after Thanksgiving the last two years, because I know it wasn't an official holiday for that place.

So maybe that's why today seems luxurious. Maybe it's been three years since I've had the Friday after Thanksgiving off.

Why is it such a good day?

Well first of all, I do not shop. I am not a shopper. I lack the shopping gene. I am cheap. I don't like crowds. I don't like most of the merchandise that's promoted so heavily this time of hear. It's too soon to start what limited Christmas shopping I do do. I wait for the last week, sometimes the last day. I quite often find myself among the poor misguided Christmas Eve shoppers. We all tend to be vague and often poor looking but we have the true spirit of - let's get this over with - soon.

So it's not the shopping I like about today. What I like about it is the clarity it give me. My table is still cleared off from having been used for yesterday's meal. The expanse of formica pleases me.

The refrigerator is full of leftovers. I'm thinking of making mashed potatoes and gravy today. There is plenty of dressing and squash left over, plenty of turkey left over, and corn and green beans. And the turkey carcas which needs to be mined for further morsels and then given to the dogs. Dog I guess. Gracie and guest dog Hans do not get along well enough to share. So it will wait in the fridge until Hans goes home. (The reason I don't make soup if that I don't think I have a big enough pot to make it in. I'm not sure. Ask if you want the full story. It's not pretty. But it might be helpful for my psyche to go into it.)

My house is about as clean as it ever gets. The floor could use another sweeping... and I might get to it. I should make the piano music rack bare so when Katie plays her music will fit better. It now holds the music book the Stock girls made for me in 2003, three sheets I brought home from work. A big navy blue and white Yankees emblem, a sheet of dealers plates from the cousins' enterprise, another random one that George and I struggled with. There's also a library book on it and my son's tablet. Actually that's nothing compare to what's on top of the piano. But I'm not even thinking of doing anything about what's up there.

The family is around and in and out and still about - but not totally here. Deb and kids are occupied with her family in town. John just left with two buckets of corn for Joana's stove. He's also seeking coffee since there is none here. And he's checking into the family's activites for the day. I expect them all out toward evening.

Jim left seeking combine fixes. He has a part he wants to see if he can get a welder to straighten for him. He's been robbing Peter Old Combine to pay Paul New Combine. He did not have a good day yesterday. He and John both worked on the transfer most of the day. While the part is worked on, hopefuly worked on, he plans to visit the tire shop and see what they think about adjusting the lights on the the kids' car which apparently point in the wrong directions. He's stopping at the vet too, to get fresh eye ointment for Gracie and for Hans too. We are bent on curing his red eyes. I will keep you informed. Plus he will ask about the cat neutering. The power plant is supposed to pay for it. I know this sounds minor, but neutering two cats costs as much as it does to work a couple dozen calves. I suppose pet cat vet bills work themselves into farm expenses and are written off, but they shouldn't be and either way they are costly.

Last night was good though. We ended up having a nice evening - we laughed a lot

Today is quiet. In a good way.

 photo DSC08092.jpg

 photo DSC08091.jpg


M November 29, 2013

Moo!

noko November 29, 2013

We have this odd work day because our union was unable to negotiate this day off so all the managers are off and the worker bees clock-in. It is a wonderful day to get things done and I look forward to it every year. I kind of like shopping late because it seems more in line with the spirit of Christmas to me but maybe I am just fooling myself because I don't enjoy shopping.

Gangleri November 29, 2013

I personally am of the "go in, get it, get the hell out" school of shopping. Screw that time wasting waste of time. ;)

Just Annie November 30, 2013

I'm not a Black Friday shopper, but I'll head dowtown this morning for Small Business Saturday. The items on my list - chocolate, wine, and yummies from the Amish deli - are all for me and Robert, but I might buy a Christmas present or two. All in all, I don't mind shopping, but it's the wrapping I hate. Every year, I intend to make Martha Stewart proud with my creativity, but by the end, I'm just slapping paper around the gift and putting on a tag. I don't even bother with bows.

Beret November 30, 2013

Glad you had a nice evening! Your lack of a pot is intriguing. I am not a shopper either. Someone would have to pay me an awful lot of money to get me out on Black Friday, or Thanksgiving. It would have to be a lot of money to make it worth my effort.

NorthernSeeker December 01, 2013

The steer is chewing...I see the angle of his mouth and the bulge in his neck. What a good day to be a cow....all that flat land, stretching out. And the sun, without all the pesky bugs.

NorthernSeeker December 01, 2013

I make turkey stock in the crockpot now. A crockpot is a good thing because you can put it on and not worry about forgetting it and having the house burn down.

Dogs sharing food is like women sharing men. Someone is going to get hurt.

You must be logged in to comment. Please sign in or join Prosebox to leave a comment.