Mexican Thanksgiving

November 26, 2009

Great Thanksgiving Day

Started off with 10 mile run and then I made a coffee cake from scratch which turned out pretty well.  Then Mark got the turkey into the oven.  We usually eat dinner around 4 or 5.  Some people eat at noon, but those people must get up very early with the turkey.  We like waiting all day and have the turkey basically as an early supper.

We’d baked the pies last night, the cherry, the pumpkin, the pecan.  The kids like pecan and pumpkin pies, and I don’t know if Mark and I really care about pies, but we have some.  My mother-in-law arrived and right away she let us know that she wanted to take off at 6 pm to go visit a friend of hers in Pahrump, Nevada.  We ended up serving dinner at 4 pm and she left at 4:15 to drive to Nevada.   I hope she is having a good drive.

But before that, my ex stopped by to see the kids, he seemed in good spirits.   We saw two movies today, Ladykillers and O Brother Where Art Thou? (which we are seeing right now.) We’re at the siren scene, which is so crazy cool.  George Clooney drinking the corn whiskey with one of the sirens and then they decide Pete’s been turned into a toad.

My son brought over two friends who joined us for Thanksgiving and later my friend
Susie came by, so it was altogether a good day.  But unusual.  My ex has always come over on Thanksgiving, and it was great to see him today, the kids were very pleased.  We had our plantains, sangria, stuffed green chilies, Mexican rice, turkey, cranberries, stuffing and tortillas, a perfect Thanksgiving.

I’m still reading Lit and she does like dropping names, now she’s talking about how she knows David Foster Wallace. Right on.  She is a whiner.  She likes to whine about not having enough help with her kids.  She whines about the grandparents not helping with the kids.   Really, my kids never even once had a grandparent who ever took care of them, cooked for them or did anything with them except my ex mother in law who may have taken my daughter to the swap meet a couple times.  She whines and whines; that’s because she’s a whiner.  The more I read it, the more I realize this.  She had it way better than I did, went to way better schools, so her mom was a drunk, I had no mom, I mean I hate to be a whiner, but get over yourself, Mary.  Grow up.  Your mother’s right, you made a fortune off telling stories about your mother and making her sound like a demon.  Hey wait till I tell my stories.  It will take your breath away.  Your mother was a princess compared to my mother or my father for that matter.  But I’m going to keep reading, I still love this book, I love Mary Karr’s writing; it just pulls me in, utterly compelling and visceral.

You notice whining is okay when I do it?  Tomorrow, I’m going to finish Tameka vs. Susie Q.  Then off to Guadalajara on Sunday.

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