Trena Eiden

A few weeks ago, a friend stopped when she saw my car was parked alongside the road by some bushes. We visited a minute then seeing the bag in my hand, she asked what I was doing? I said, “Well, I hope I’m picking Service Berries, and I say ‘hope’ because the kids always thought I’d kill their dad with my cooking, but no, it’ll be with a berry I thought was edible but turned out to be on the same lineage as a poison mushroom.” Gar didn’t die, and I’m grateful since I’d be writing this while doing 20-to-life in maximum security. Gar was trusting, and when I handed him the berries, he never even bobbled, just threw his head back and down they went. I will tell you he’s not as naive when he sees it’s me at the stove. 

If this Thanksgiving is accurate with the estimated numbers, 80 million Americans will journey over 50 miles from home, eat 46 million turkeys and 80 million pounds of cranberries. I always thought cranberries were smashed by a farmer’s toes, but just found out I’ve been mislead all my life by my dumb brain. Grapes are what get smashed, not cranberries. Then I read that we’ll each scarf down 4,000 calories during the big dinner, but that’s providing we don’t do something ridiculous, like eat stupid carrot sticks first. (Carrots are safe with me). 

Last year, my doctor, on a whim and hoping she could urge me into weight-loss, told me that to lose one pound, I’d need to burn or cut 3500 calories. She wanted me to lose 14 pounds, which would reflect 49,000 calories. Yikes! But ya know, if we’d smash cranberries with our feet, we could lose 20 calories every few minutes, calories that would be destined for our thighs. And its good to note that most of us spiffed the house before the holiday and heavy-duty cleaning burns 300 calories an hour. I’d rather stomp a grape. Contact me for more weight-loss tips. 

I was mesmerized to find out that TSA and the airlines allow turkey, stuffing that’s cooked or uncooked, and 3.4 ounces of gravy (less than half a cup) in a carry-on. What am I supposed to do with that miniscule amount of gravy? I love everything, but for me, when it comes to gravy, it’s basically a beverage. You know what else is allowed? Brussels sprouts and green beans. I could see green beans because gee, all that butter would be magnificent, but for the love of all things holy, who is serving Brussels sprouts for a vegetable on this sacred day? 

What isn’t allowed is mashed potatoes because they’re considered spreadable, on the same line as honey or yogurt. They’ll allow baked potatoes, but if you’re bringing home leftover baked potatoes from Thanksgiving dinner, you need to pick your parents better next time. 

Last year Gar and I each made a list of what we were grateful for. Gar’s started out precious. He wrote that he was thankful for: God, wife, kids, grandkids, home, America, and the list went on with what I could relate to. Then he wrote that he was grateful for reasoning, math, leadership, people skills and being able to read. 

I read his, and inwardly cringed at “math and reasoning” so when he asked to read mine, I wrinkled my nose and said, “Let me work on it.” I’d started out similar to his with being grateful for Gar, our kids, grandbabies, and friends, our home and yard, and I’d even written I was thankful for my washer and dryer, refrigerator, dishwasher, and my car, but then I’d written that I was grateful for chocolate, yet thankfull I didn’t weigh 450 pounds. I certainly couldn’t write “reasoning and math.” That would be lying. And people skills? That’s mostly, “Don’t cross me and we’ll be fine.” I’ve always liked James Mattis' way of thinking, “Be polite, be professional, but have a plan to kill everybody you meet.” Yesterday a good friend gave me a hug and said, “I love your bad attitude, it’s well developed.” 

May your turkey be golden-
Your rolls cooked inside

Your potatoes all creamy-

May your pie crusts be flaky-Your lettuce so crisp

It snaps and it pops-
As it enters your lips

May your family all bless you-May they be at your side

And your smile be toothy-Cheerful and wide

Best of all, give a shout-
A big happy yell

By not eating my cooking-
You’ll likely stay well.

Happy Thanksgiving.