I have been on a roll the past few days -- I completely re-designed my bedroom and moved every stitch of furniture around -- and that required (because when I get on a roll watch out!) cleaning out every single drawer and the closet. Well, my closet. Peter can do his own, though truth be told, his never gets like mine. You know, messy, cluttered, stuffing things in and shutting the door and walking away. That's mine. His just never seems to change.It took a solid day and a half ... there isn't a speck of dust in that room or the bathroom. It is CLEAN! I even removed all the stacks of books (keep, give-away, maybe keep) as I weeded out the book shelf as well. I realized about halfway in that I was under the influence of PMS and a full moon, and took full advantage of the crazy energy and drive. Then yesterday afternoon I took my completed shopping list and went to get that little necessity of hell out of the way. Yes, the traditional Thanksgiving shopping trip.
It was crowded. Mobbed. I was lucky to get both a parking spot and a cart. I had made a special trip to Hanover to the Co-Op because I wanted a good bird. An organic, free range happy bird. (Or happy until the axe got him.) I even went straight to the meat department to capture my bird before the droves of people behind me went there too. And there was a bird, oh yes there was. There were exactly two choices for someone who did not order a bird. There was a 30-pounder, and a 10-pounder. The large bird was scary and the small one was pathetic. I went to the counter and asked the nice man if he had any smaller birds, and I made a rather horrified motion towards the big guy in the case, you know, I flashed that disarming smile we keep for good cuts of fish and meat, because that is sort of TOO big. He asked me if I had ordered one, and while I briefly considered a) flashing him or b) saying yes, I did, my last name is Jones ... I noticed two other people hovering around the two big daddies. I rushed over and just hefted one into my cart. I'm pretty sure I pulled my back, and one woman said, did that really say 30 pounds? Did that really say 30 pounds and $100? YES. SO WHAT. I tucked my guy into the front seat (he was actually bigger than any child I'd put in that seat in year's past!) and rushed back to the bread department to see if I could at least get a normal amount of rolls to take home.
Was it a snap decision? Yes. After the sweat dried up I returned to the meat department and scoured the refrigerated cases, looking to see if perhaps I had overlooked a teeny tiny 15 pounder. No such luck. The guy behind the counter spotted me and said that I could come back tomorrow (which would be today) and see if there had been cancellations of people not picking up their birds (which ranged in size from 15-25 pounds.) Yeah. No. Whatever. Live and learn.
But I am going to have to put that sucker in the oven at dawn, which means I have no oven tomorrow. So today I have made pumpkin pie, apple pie and will do the maple roasted sweet potatoes soon. But you see, the problem with having that PMS craziness is that it is followed by something else. A full score drop in energy to negative numbers and a desire to lay on the couch and moan. About cramps and leg aches and back aches (stupid bird) and the fact that every time I turn around the kitchen I have cleaned has been messed up by little urchins who sneak around and visit places I have cleaned. You know, that sort of thing. Whine whine. Boo hiss.
So what I have now is an upside-down cleaned house. Normally, normal people (of which I am clearly not one) would devote their tornado of energy towards areas where guests will be permitted. In most cases, you can have a clean downstairs and a messy upstairs and no one has to know. But this is going to be hard to insist that everyone come to my bedroom for appetizers and cocktails. Or even odder to set up a table in my squeaky clean bathroom for dinner. No, what it all means is that I have to dig deep and find some sort of reserve to clean the entire downstairs of my house ... I will receive help on their terms. Peter will do something TOMORROW. He is a morning person, and despite the fact he's been home since 2:00, he feels it is his sitting on the couch time. Not his help me with the downstairs cleaning time. The kids cleaned their rooms too, during the upstairs frenzy, and have pretty much indicated that their quota for the month is full up. Oh yes, I could yell and scream and rant and rave, and I assure you, it will come to that. But for now, I am going to just not give a damn!
Look on the bright side. We will be eating turkey for dinner for weeks. No shopping or menu planning!!!
HAPPY THANKSGIVING !
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