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Well, I whipped up and baked my pumpkin pies for the dessert part of our Thanksgiving feast. One looked terrible, but tasted good; the other looked great, but tasted so, so. I’m batting 500 which is pretty darn good. Next year we’re going to a local eatery Thanksgiving buffet; I’ll buy.
I’m having trouble recognizing people, especially women. I mean I see a woman and think it’s someone I know…and it isn’t! That usually does not turn out well. I try not to speak first to women in public because of this little quirk in my mental awareness, but sometimes I say, “Oh, that’s so and so; I’ll say ‘Hi’.” The woman gives me a dirty look, and I realize that it isn’t who I thought it was. Now what? Do I say, “I’m sorry; I thought you were…?” Or maybe I say, “I’m an old man and I don’t know what I’m doing out here with people.” Usually I just turn around and walk away hoping not to be hit on the head with some piece of fruit. I just saw the Seinfeld rerun where someone suggests having everyone in NYC wear a nametag. Maybe that’s not such a bad idea.
Many columns ago I complained about the new fitted sheets and the difficulties I had determining which end was which. Well, I’ve got a new gripe about those sheets. I was doing laundry, I mean the laundry was doing itself; I was probably napping, and I heard this thumping noise. Since I wasn’t cooking, I thought probably I should check it out. The basement laundry room seemed to be the source so I made my way down the steps to find the dryer doing a polka around the floor. I opened it, shutting it off, and pulled out a huge cylinder of wet bed clothes and towels. The fitted sheet had wrapped itself around the whole load and was bouncing around the dryer drum. Those things are fabric boa constrictors when they get in the washer and dryer. I’ve tried putting heavy towels in with the sheets, but the fitted monster finds them and wraps them in its deadly grasp. I’ve tried hanging them on the basement clothes lines. Good luck with that; that’s like trying to fold them. If any of you experienced housekeepers have a method of drying these elastic problems, help me out before I lose my mind or an arm to these silly things.
Maybe I’ll get a bed without head and foot boards like an army cot and use flat sheets; I’m good at making hospital corners.
I received some “Amen” comments from “my Mom does all the work on Thanksgiving” column. I agreed to have the major meal at my house this year if visitors would bring the food. That’s still a hassle; now you not only have to fix the food but you have to pack it up and haul it too. I guess if I would have given it more thought, I would have taken everyone to one of those Thanksgiving buffets. Of course then I wouldn’t have had the leftovers for future meals. There is a method in my madness. Take a widow(er) shopping next week.
alnada2704@gmail.com or care of Winona Post, Box 27, Winona, MN 55987
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