Thanksgiving and other fairy tales

For those of you with a weak stomach where this possibly feminist blog entry is concerned, please feel free to exit........now.

I have had some time to consider this holiday that we call Thanksgiving. I am convinced that quite possibly this was a holiday made up by men, for men. Humor me, won't you? I have spent the better part of two whole days cooking a meal that will more than likely be devoured in 15 minutes flat.

The man of the house's job in all of this? Show up. That's right, all they have to do is show up. These men get to sit in front of the television set or nap all day, whatever suits their particular fancy, and then the little woman announces that the meal is ready. Yep. Show up.

As if standing on your feet and slaving over counters that are way too short for your particular frame wasn't enough, now that the meal is over, YOU get to clean it all up! There are no offers of help. It's like attending a party you never wanted to go to in the first place. You show up, make a little face time, and then you leave.

Christmas is the next big show of the year. It starts the day after Thanksgiving. The little woman is charged with the responsibility of making the home festive. She will be decorating while the men are watching TV or sleeping.

The idea of Festivus is becoming much more appealing to me as the years go by. This is a holiday I might be able to get on board with. You put a plain metal pole, the Festivus pole, in the middle of the room and the participants take turns airing their greivances and reciting their disappointment with family members. Co-stan-za!

Hans Christian Anderson I am not. I'm difficult to speak with too. Happy Holidays, fellas!

Autumn is finally here.

Went for my walk with the doggies tonight, and for the first time it felt a tad brisk. I am LOVING the cooler weather. Oh how I miss the changing of the color of the leaves of my childhood in Washington. Of course, this weather is why people live in Arizona. We live through four months of hell fire just for this, and we never have to shovel the driveway.

I've been thinking alot about my Grandma Hedberg. She died when I was 12 years old at the very young age of 50. I miss her. I loved the holidays when I was young and we would go over to her house to eat. She always used real butter.

My grandma smelled of Pond's cold cream and coffee. I have never drunk coffee, but I absolutely love the smell of it. I use Palmolive dish soap because that was what she used and the smell always brings me back to her kitchen.

She, in my opinion, was the glue that held our extended family together. After she died, no one seems to get together anymore, or talk to each other anymore. It's sad really. I equate the holidays with family and well, I just don't have that. I love watching big families get together and see how they interact with one another. Silently wishing and hoping that it was mine.

I've been trying very hard to be thankful. Even though, most days I have a hard time thinking up something. This has been and is probably one of the worst years of my life.

Anyway, autumn is finally here, and I am thankful for that.