Life is crazy busy here in Spätzle-Ville trying to pump out enough product to fill our holiday orders. We have large orders for a few restaurants and many retail stores filling their freezers and cooler with our spätzle for the Christmas holiday.
When we started this business almost five years ago, I was shocked at how many families have spätzle on either for dinner on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. Up until they could buy our tasty, no-boil spätzle, they were making it themselves. This gives our customers more time to spend with their families and not in the kitchen cleaning up a spätzle making mess; I should know I do it almost every day. Ironically, 80% of our customers are not gluten-free folks, just people who like our product’s taste, texture, and convenience.
We love hearing people’s stories about Christmas’ past and how they remember their omas’ or mothers’ making spätzle for their holiday meals. It always makes them smile while telling us their stories, and we feel privileged to be on their Christmas dinner tables.
This morning we had one of the owners of a restaurant in Ludlow, VT, pick up a bunch of cases for their restaurant called Sam’s Steakhouse. They are as excited as we are having our spätzle on their menu as a killer Macaroni & Cheese. We are thrilled to be at another fabulous restaurant in a ski resort town.
Later in the day, Skye (my new truck) had her very first delivery to our distributor Wilcox Ice Cream. The delivery schedule is different due to the holiday, so we had to scramble to make enough for all the orders to various specialty and co-op stores in the state.
The truck was easy to load and unload since the bed of the truck isn’t too high for me to reach; for those who don’t know me in person, I am a short 5’2″ on a good day.
So far, between yesterday and today’s production, we have made more spätzle in two days than we do in a week sometimes. Tomorrow is another big production day, and Wednesday, we are on the road making our NY deliveries. One of our stops is to one of our customers, a principal of a school. He is giving each of the teachers one of our two-pound bags. We will be delivering his spätzle directly to his school. What a lovely gift indeed!
I can’t believe Christmas Eve is only four days away. We will be having raclette for dinner. I will write more about raclette tomorrow when I get the equipment out. Have a great night and stay warm; it was in the low teens here this morning. 🥶
Yesterday, I picked up my new vehicle, whose name is Skye. It’s a new small pick-up truck made by Ford. I’ve had SUVs before, but not a pick-up. It’s a pick-up, but it’s more like a trucklet to me. It’s the perfect size for me when I make deliveries, run errands, or pack up farmer’s market supplies.
This small pick-up truck is the latest model right off the Ford assembly line. I was lucky that Marty even found me one and in the color Area 51. I probably have the first of its kind in here in VT. These trucks are sold sight unseen and have a waiting list of more than a year.
I chose the gas turbo engine, all-wheel-drive version because it’s Vermont, and all-wheel-drive makes sense. The truck also comes in a two-wheel-drive hybrid version that gets 40 miles to the gallon, which is unbelievable. The hybrid Mavericks have waiting lists so long most customers won’t be getting their hands on one until 2023.
This small size pick-up truck is perfect for weekend DIY projects with enough room in the cab along with a spacious back seat. There is lots of hidden storage and other features. For about $21,000, you get a lot of value for your money and style with the Maverick.
I bought my truck at Ford of Latham, NY, and we had a great experience. They didn’t jack up the price like many dealers are doing to cars and trucks right now, and they made sure the vehicle had everything I wanted, like heated seats and a spray-in truck liner. The day my truck arrived, it went straight to the heated seat installer and then had the spray in line the following day.
I could easily sell my new truck for thousands of dollars more than I paid for it, but why would I when I got exactly what I wanted.
I drove Skye home yesterday and loved how it drove and how warm my ass got in the driver’s seat. Heated seats in Vermont are super important!
Although the color of the Maverick is Area 51, I named her Skye because of the color. Yesterday morning, I dragged Marty to the patio door and showed him the westward sky just before dawn, the exact color of my new truck. The inside is a hip blue denim color with lots of cool accent colors and features.
Did I ever in my life think I would be writing a blog post about “my” new pick-up truck? Um, no. It just goes to show you that things change along with people. Now, I have Skye to drive me around on my journey.
When we started our business, The Vermont Spätzle Company almost five years ago we needed to advertise our brand and make our own deliveries.
Every other week Marty did a 500 loop throughout the state of Vermont. He tried doing it in his dad’s old Pathfinder which worked in the very beginning, but as the delivery run grew, we needed a delivery van.
Everywhere we went people stopped to talk to the “spätzle people.” The advertising on the van was working. We wanted as many people possible to see our company logo and ask about it.
As the business grew, we couldn’t give up one whole day of production for delivery day. We are very blessed to have a local business, Wilcox Ice Cream, drop ship our frozen spätzle for us. It’s worth every penny for us to have a distributor.
We still deliver to the NY surrounding area, but the amount of cases deliver doesn’t require a delivery van any more.
When we started the business we sold my Volkswagen. We didn’t want the burden of a car payment with the uncertainty of a new business. I began driving Marty’s dads Pathfinder. I was grateful to have a vehicle to drive, but it wasn’t something I enjoyed driving; except for the heated seats.
We sold the pathfinder last winter, it needed a bunch of work and we didn’t want to sink money into an old vehicle that I didn’t even like, but drove.
That’s when I started driving the delivery van all of the time. I hated it. I hate that it only has front windows and I have to use only my mirrors to merge onto highways and to back up. It’s not easy to drive and not pleasurable at all.
The speakers suck which is an understatement! I listen to music all of the time but not in the van. The cheap base model tiny speakers are so terrible that I’d rather go without music.
Week after week I started to hate driving the van even more. I parked way in the back of parking lots because I can’t park the thing correctly. I have no perception of where the parking lines are without being able to see properly.
Another thing that I hate about driving the van is the advertising. What we needed in the beginning became a drag. Everyone knew where I was and would comment they saw me here or there. People still stopped me to ask about our product. When I am out running errands, errands I don’t want to be doing anyway, the last thing I want is to have to talk to people and making the errands take twice as long.
Having a vehicle with your brand on it is not ideal because I have to be a courteous driver; I don’t want to give our business a bad name. I am not a patient driver and like to make gestures and swear…are you surprised at all? Lol.
With winter coming, I really knew I didn’t want to drive the van anymore. The van doesn’t have heat, it has slightly warm air. I hate winter and the cold, so not having heat is awful and not acceptable.
Again, I didn’t want spend money to put in a new heating system in a vehicle I hated. I hate driving it so much, I hated to drive at all. I told Marty I wanted my own vehicle again.
We have a monthly car payment on the van so it’s not like a new bill. I was sure I could find a nice vehicle roughly within the monthly payment we already had.
I did find one! I pick it up on Friday afternoon. I’ll wait to show her to you after she comes home. The only thing I will tell you is that I love the color of my new vehicle…Area 51. 👽
Thank you Spätzle Mobile for your service. You were there when we needed you, but it’s time to move on and help someone else out. Adios kid!
Photo by Maria Wulf. She used the timer on her phone.
Yesterday our belly dance group Bennington Beledi Tribal Bellydance( BBTB), had its annual Holiday Hafla…a belly dance holiday party.
Our dance group has been around for a long time; April marks my 19th year. I’ve danced with many women over the years, but Kat, Kathleen, and I have been dancing together for over 18 years.
Callie has been a member of our student troupe Sisters of the Shaw for at least 14 years. Emily also a member of Sister of the Shawl comes next with 7+ years, then our students Trish with 6 years, and finally Maria who has been with us for at least five years. These are the core women that danced at our hafla yesterday. Kathleen beats us all; she started dancing our style of belly dance 26 years ago.
I take selfies with everyone. Everyone always looks great in my selfies that take only 2 seconds.
Since covid hit, our troupe has remained together and dancing. This year turned out pretty good, all things considered. Last winter, Emily & Kathleen kept everyone dancing on zoom; before that, I made weekly videos for everyone to dance along to. An unbelievable thing happened when we were all able to dance in person again after almost six months apart; we all got better and improved tremendously! It was like we didn’t skip a beat.
I am proud to be a part of BBTB and watch our students blossom. Callie is our “oldest” sister of the student troupe, meaning in dance years, not age. She is the rock, the steady one, the one who keeps it together by keeping things in line when they are dancing together.
Callie.
Emily stepped up last winter and helped teach by dancing with Kathleen during zoom. Emily improved so much during that time. Yesterday, Emily performed a solo basket piece. Basket work is when a dancer balances a basket on their head and makes the basket part of the dance. Emily’s solo was stunning and smooth.
Emily.
Callie and Emily dance as a duet in our student troupe, Sisters of the Shawl. They are a tight duet, they get into each other’s energy and dance so in time with each other, you would swear it was choreographed. Our biggest compliment after a gig is that when people are floored, it was improv.
Sword work with Trish and Callie.Level 3 students Trish, Callie & Emily.
Trish came back stronger as well. Trish works hard to correct her technique and zilling, which is getting better and better. She has had to learn to slow down and listen to the music and dance from her heart, not her head. For several months Trish and Callie have been practicing sword work. Sword work is when a dancer dances with a sword balanced on their head. It isn’t easy and takes a lot of practice. Ironically, sword practice forced Trish to slow down, or she would drop her sword, in turn slowing down when she didn’t have a sword on her head.
Sisters helping each other get ready.
Trish and Callie performed a sword piece yesterday that was smooth and graceful. It’s much more complicated than it looks with the possibility of dropping the sword at any given time with just one wrong move. Trish and Callie were a perfect duet, they practiced hard, and it showed.
Then comes Maria. When Maria started taking classes with us, she couldn’t step on the beat or hear it. Maria had never danced before and had zero body awareness meaning she was not aware of what the parts of her body were doing when she was moving or standing still. We had to teach Maria how to walk first, then dance.
Maria is in the lead. 🤗
It seemed a bit hopeless for the first few months, but she showed me little signs that she could dance. Maria didn’t believe me, but with patience, instructions, corrections, and building her confidence, she improved week after week. She was so dedicated and practiced at home, which is rare. She still practices at home, and I can tell each week.
I always say that you have to build up muscle memory first then the moves will follow. The same thing goes for zilling, playing our finger cymbals. Maria didn’t believe me initially, but over time she understood what I meant.
As teachers, Kathleen and I teach the same dance moves repeatedly. The explanations and instructions are different every time we teach them, depending on how we feel that day. For me, it’s whatever inspires me. Kathleen has her way of teaching, and I have mine, meaning there is always something for everyone to learn even if they don’t hear it that time or the next. Trish and Maria have said over the last year, “I never heard you say that before.” I die laughing and tell them they weren’t ready to hear it yet. This is 100% true.
Once you learn to step on the beat, learn the dance moves, play the zills, you have to learn how to lead. We are an improv style of dance, meaning nothing is choreographed. Learning how to lead is intimidating and scary. There are many things to consider when it’s your turn; the rest of the group follows what you are doing, so if you mess up, they do too. We never push someone to lead before they are ready; even if they aren’t too sure, we are.
When Trish would get into the lead, she used to look down, and you could see her thinking so hard it would hinder her dance. She is becoming more comfortable in the lead and is learning to start and stop songs. She is looking up now, thanks to that sword practice again.
When Maria used to step into the lead we had to teach her “how” to step into the lead with confidence. Before, she would have a look on her face like here goes nothing. She didn’t take it seriously because she didn’t think she could lead. We knew she could. When the time was right, she heard the right words at the right time and began to take leading seriously. It’s still intimating and scary for her, but she gets better every time she does it.
When Maria began taking classes, she wanted to dance with an attitude and confidence like we did. After many attitude and confidence lessons, she “gets” it now and is more confident and has a baby attitude, not giant ones like Kathleen and I have when we dance. Lol.
Yesterday, when we watched these four ladies dancing together, you could see how much they trusted each other and enjoyed dancing together. Maria truly was part of the “quad” and looked like she belonged there and believed she did. I can’t tell you how proud I am of her.
Photo by Maria Wulf.
Kathleen and I danced to two songs with skirt work. Skirt work uses your skirt as part of the dance, much like the other props, baskets, and swords. The best part of skirt work for me yesterday is that you don’t lift your arms overhead or drop your skirt. My left arm still hurt too much to lift, so these two short songs were perfect.
Me and Kat. Photo by Maria Wulf.
Kat retired from our dance troupe a few years ago but still comes to my Tribal Workout class each week. Yesterday, she danced to a song with us, and it was wonderful to have her there with us. Kat, Kathleen, and I have danced so many gigs together we couldn’t even count. Even though we don’t dance together often we would still be able to perform together if we had to since we all know each other’s dance moves so well. It’s just like riding a bike.
Wednesday is our last class of the year. My homework for everyone, including myself, will decide what they want to achieve and work on next year. We’ve been around a long time and aren’t going anywhere; our new motto is “We are still here.” You bet your ass we are.
Yesterday, when Marty brought in the mail, he said, “Wow! Look, a phone book!” We haven’t had a phone book in years. The cover says, “The real yellow pages. The original search engine.”
Real as opposed to what else?
When we moved to Vermont from New Jersey 32 years ago, I was in for a significant culture shock. When I say shock, I mean shock. I was dumbfounded the first couple of years we were here.
Silly little things were different. You had to pump your own gas. You could smoke in the grocery store, which delighted me since I was a smoker at the time. Hell, I probably would have lit up even if I didn’t smoke because you could. To the 23-year-old me, this was the coolest thing ever. Now it’s the most disgusting thing in the world! 🤢
The whole food scene was different too. I missed little things like an authentic bakery, a good pizzeria, bars that stayed open late, Entenmann’s donuts, cakes and cookies, Tasty Cake anything, Taylor ham or pork roll. The list goes on and on. What Vermont did have was peace and quiet along with no traffic.
I will never forget the first time I saw a phone book. I was beyond amused that it was so skinny, like a half-inch skinny. The phone books in New Jersey were so thick they were used as children’s booster seats. The phone books in Manhattan could be step ladders; they were so thick. I remember thinking we aren’t in Kansas anymore, Toto, or in my case, NJ.
The thickness is thinner than my glasses.
Last night, just for kicks, I opened to the restaurant section of the yellow pages; I always look at the restaurant sections; it’s always about food with me. Some places have been closed for years and years. The more I read, the more I laughed. The Village Country Inn, The Rattlesnake Cafe, and Carmodys just to name a few.
All the restaurants permanently closed long before the pandemic.
Next, I checked the Hotels & Motels section. Most of the hotels are still in existence. The motels? More than half of them are welfare/halfway houses. I understand there is an extreme need for places like these for people down on their luck or bad situations. A few years ago, Marty and I got duped on a Priceline booking in Connecticut. Us and another family were the only guests of the “hotel,” which turned out to be a motel.
To say the least, it was entertaining watching all the action going on while sitting on our balcony that was 50 yards from the highway. When we were in the pool, we could have tossed a beachball over our shoulder, and it would have landed on a car.
At some point, I was apprehensive because people were whacked out on drugs and crazy. I mean, batshit crazy. Many were transients with vouchers from the state; our next-door neighbor was clearly homeless and wouldn’t leave us alone. We got the hell out of there the next day and said, “never again.” It was a learning lesson of a lifetime!
Back to the phone book, there were also goods and services listed that have been out of business for years. Doesn’t anyone who works for the Yellow Pages check these things? What’s even more puzzling is that they have added new businesses, so why not remove the older than dirt ones that exist anymore?
As far as the original search engine business goes, I looked up a couple of the closed businesses using an online search engine that listed the business as permanently closed. Another thing I started thinking about was who in the fuck even uses a paper phone book these days?
Another restaurant opened up in this space and it is closed permanently as well.
Back in the day when we moved to VT, the phone book was the only way to get local information, and it was trustworthy. This was how we found everything we needed before we had any friends to ask. Now we have the internet.
Also back in the day, whenever we stayed at a hotel somewhere, I would grab the phone book from the drawer with the Bible, jump on the bed, and start leafing through it. They even had menus so we could decide where to eat!
A big part of me misses those days of laying on my stomach with my legs curled up flipping through those pages. Believe it or not, I still look in the Bible drawer to see if there are any phone books; the Book of Mormon has replaced the phone book. BTW The musical The Book of Mormon is hysterical, and I love, love, love the music! I know I got off track here.
Maybe people who still have landlines and no computer use a phone book? Fair enough, so then they should at least have up to this decade’s information listed for these folks. Right?
My last question is, do businesses still pay to have their business ads in the phone book;? Selling yellow pages ads used to be a profitable business, our best man in our wedding Paulie used to sell those business ads. He was quite the salesman and guido!
All these questions and no real answers…it’s like the great phone book mystery that remains unsolved!
This week…ugh! It’s been ten days since my booster and I still am exhausted after minor activity. My arm still aches if I move it. It’s still badly bruised. I have a dull headache that comes and goes.
Needless to say, working in the production kitchen was torture. Today was the worst day yet. But I did it. I had to, we have orders to fill and a business to run or we won’t have one.
I apologized once this week for slacking off on writing, but I am struggling. I still have two days until our belly dance Holiday Hafla on Sunday. I am planning on going no matter what, even if I can’t dance as much as I would like. I picked out my costume last night and have it all set to go.
Hopefully this reaction follows the other two and lasts exactly two weeks, that’s Monday. When I feel better I will be raring to go. 🤞🏼
I can’t believe it’s Friday already. I feel like I’ve lost another week by not feeling well. I usually post a cheery Happy Friday, even though I am not up to a happy Friday I still wish one for you all. Cheers!
Last Monday, on our way home from deliveries, I stopped at the vaccination site in our area and received my booster shot as a walk-in. Simple. Easy. Efficient.
I was keeping my fingers crossed for no side effects this time. After the first shot, I had a terrible headache that made my blood pressure go up; it lasted for two weeks. The second shot, I was beyond exhausted for two weeks.
You can see the bruise between the cherry blossom branches of my tattoo. Ouch! This is a week later!
After the booster, I had the usual Moderna arm that usually hurt for a day. The vaccination was injected high up on my arm and went right into my tendon. My arm hurt much more this time and still does even to the touch. I finally looked at it by contorting myself and saw an ugly dark purple bruise. Now it’s a green and purple bruise. Seriously WTF?
If the bruising was the only side effect that would be ok, but I am more tired after the booster than the other two vaccinations. Ugh! At least there is no headache.
I have to remind myself that I chose to get the booster in the beginning of December in case became I exhausted again for a couple of weeks. I don’t want to be tired the end of December when my sister Jennifer and the kids come to visit. That God it’s only December 6th and I still have plenty of time to pick my ass off the floor.
I was working on a blog post in the car this morning while Marty was driving; we were on another delivery run. I couldn’t keep my eyes open. It’s funny how many sleep problems I’ve had in the past since I’ve gone to bed early all week and fall asleep before my head even hits the pillow.
The rest of the day in Saratoga, Clifton Park, and Albany were miserable for me. I tried to hold my shit together and not let Marty see how exhausted I was. When I am exhausted I am cranky and want to cry. Thankfully, I didn’t cry but I was completely out of it.
The blog piece I am working on is still a work in progress since I couldn’t write anymore today. I just wanted you guys to know I am not slacking off, I have to get over that two week hump of being tired. It would also be nice if my arm didn’t ache anymore every time I lifted it.
Speaking of lifting my arm, I hope I have a little energy on Wednesday, belly dance day. I look forward to belly dance each week and this week Kathleen and I have to practice for a performance on Sunday.
We are having a “Holiday Halfa” which is a celebration with music, dancing, and food. Usually, we invite guests, other dancers, family, and friends, but with the whole covid thing, Kathleen, our students, and myself will be celebrating and performing just for each other this year. Last year we couldn’t even be together, so this really is a celebration.
I am looking forward to getting all gussied up in my costuming and do my hair and make-up tribal belly dance style. I want to perform and have fun dancing dammit, I need to get my energy back!
I am listening to my body by resting whenever I need to and going to bed early. I’ve been drinking lots of water and not overdoing it. I didn’t think I would be this tired again since the booster was only a half dose of Moderna. I was wrong big time.
I don’t want to scare anyone about the booster shot since everyone reacts differently. I am only sharing what in the fuckity hell is going on with me right now.
I am hitting the hay early again tonight and hope that I start to feel back to my old self when I wake up tomorrow. I would write normal, but we all know that I am not normal and never want to be. 😉
I know I wrote back in late October that we haven’t had a hard frost yet. Last Friday, we were hit with a snowstorm leaving us without power and about a foot of snow here in Arlington.
Up until this morning, none of it has melted, and we keep getting another dusting every day. It was still only November. I started getting that we live in a fucking snow globe feeling early this year.
I heard the plow trucks go by our house four times this morning and woke to a slushy, icy mess. I could tell that a climate change and a storm were coming. My body is like a freakin weather stick…thanks arthritis.
Production was difficult for me this morning with arm and shoulder pain on my right side and “Moderna arm” pain from my booster shot I got Monday on the left side. I was fine as long as I didn’t lift my arms. LOL! Over the years, I have found ways to work through and compensate for arthritis; today was no different.
I’ve had arthritis since my 20s, and I have never let it stop me from working, dancing, or living once. It’s called grin and bear it, also known as “suck it up, buttercup.” I have never called out sick because of it, and I certainly won’t let it stop me from working for our own business, that’s for sure. For years my dance students have smelled the wintergreen fresh scent of Ben-Gay that I slather on before I teach classes.
I made it through today’s production and clean-up with tremendous pain, some loud rock music, and a whole lot of determination to finish. Mission accomplished.
This afternoon I needed to run a few errands and pick up milk for next week’s production. It was dark when I came out of a store at 4:15 pm. Sigh. I am just not cut out for the dark days of winter.
I made a quick, simple dinner tonight…tacos. Some people ask if we ever eat “normal shit.” The answer is yes and on paper plates tonight. I even put the cast iron skillet of taco meat on the kitchen island instead of setting the table and putting all the toppings into separate bowls.
Poor Otto looked concerned before the storm.
Poor Otto started running around the house panting and shaking as we were eating. He knew something was about to happen. Thundersnow! Marty and I were sitting in opposite directions, and both saw the biggest lightning bolt ever out the windows.
Marty said it hit close, and it did, just right down the road from us. I love a good thunderstorm, but this was scary; this one shook me to the core. Holy shit!
Klaus never gives a rat’s ass about anything. LOL.
Within minutes the fire department was toned out to a house hit with a possible lightning strike and fire. Marty had his turn-out gear on before he even heard the tone for the rescue squad. After he left, I grabbed a flashlight just in case and filled up my wine glass. I needed to be prepared!
The good news is I just heard on the scanner the fire is out, Otto has calmed down, and Klausie-boy, the bulldog, couldn’t give two shits about any of it. As for me? I need more wine. 😛
The day after Thanksgiving may be Black Friday to some, but to me, it’s Operation Christmas. Sam and I started this tradition many years ago, and I love it.
When our boys were small, our tree was filled with baby & children’s ornaments such as Baby’s First Christmas or a teddy bear or other cute animals holding age numbers. Almost all of the ornaments were given to the boys from both sets of our parents.
After my dad and Marty’s parents passed, it became hard and harder to get those ornaments out each year. The boys weren’t helping to hang up “their” ornaments anymore since they were grown up; I was decorating the tree alone.
My mother had her stroke eight years ago around Thanksgiving. I couldn’t bring myself to pull out all of those sentimental decorations due to emotional and physical exhaustion. I decided that I would keep those ornaments for the boys when they had homes and families of their own, and I would buy grown-up decorations.
Sam, Marty, and I went shopping and picked out our new purple, silver, and white ornaments. Our tree looked so glamorous, like the kind you see in magazines. Poor Noah was upset because he wasn’t around when all of this happened and was heartbroken about the new decorations. I explained to him why I needed to change things; he got it and was on board.
My Mema tree.
I still put up my mini Mema Christmas tree every year. Mema was my grandmother on my dad’s side for those who don’t know who she is. When I was small, I remember looking at Mema’s vintage ornaments from when my father was a little boy in the 1940s. I loved a Santa coming down the ceramic chimneypiece with old-fashioned glass bulbs sticking out of it.
Mema’s vintage ornaments.
When I was in my twenties, she had a box packed up for me when I visited Mema. It was all the decorations and ornaments that I loved. She said she didn’t decorate like she used to and wanted me to have them. It is still one of the most treasured gifts I’ve ever received.
Mema’s ceramic Santa and my Santa’s sleigh.
I have one other Christmas decoration that is special to me as well. I received it when I was four years old. Nana and Grandpop, my grandparents on my mother’s, side bought it for me. It was Santa’s sleigh with reindeer, elves, and a big sack of toys in the back. The sled was studded with different color Christmas lights. I looked forward every year to plugging it in and seeing the sleigh light up.
I loved standing in front of my Santa’s sleigh and playing make-believe. I’ve always used different character voices when I played; I still do with our animals. I would use my Santa voice and call out to the reindeer and elves. When I got married and moved to Vermont, I took my Santa sleigh with me for my own home.
I’m not sure what year it was when the sleigh didn’t light up anymore; it gave me a shock and blew a fuse. After a series of curse words flying through the air, I ran to the fuse box and tripped the power. That was the end of the “light-up” sled, but I still put it on display every year. The funny thing is my boys never paid any attention to it like I did when I was small, but they didn’t have the same connection to it as I did.
After production, Marty and I went across the street to the Arlington Community House, which had their fundraising Christmas trees and wreaths sale. The proceeds help the town fund the community house, which is important to us, and not having to travel anywhere to get the tree is priceless.
Marty cut the bottom of the tree, drilled a hole in it, placed it in the tree stand, and let me have at it. He headed out with Sam to work on a project, so I had the house to myself. I put on Christmas music and slowly started putting up our decorations. It began to snow while I was decorating, which was even more festive.
Our dining room.
While organizing everything on the dining room table, I came across a Christmas ornament mailed to us last Christmas. Our tree was down, so I never used it; I put it in one of the Christmas boxes. The ornament was from the care facility where my mother lived, a glass ornament with her photo in it.
Ornament with my mother’s picture.
You never know when grief is going to sneak up on you or punch you in the face. In yesterday’s case, it hit me right between the eyes. I started to weep, taken by surprise with all kinds of emotions. I let myself cry and let all the feelings go one by one. I was sad, mad, angry, and heartbroken. Marty stopped in for a moment, hugging me, telling me it was ok to cry.
I became over-sentimental and didn’t have the same happiness I started with. In the end, I finished decorating the tree and the house, happy with how everything looked. It was dark out already, and the guys were out on a rescue squad call, so I quickly jumped in the shower.
As soon as I got out of the shower, the power went out from all the heavy snow snapping tree branches and power lines. I let out a big, “What the fuck! You gotta be kidding me,” while standing in the bathroom dripping wet in the dark. I felt around for my towel and went downstairs to light some candles.
The house quickly got chilly since I didn’t have the heat up high while decorating the tree. My thick hair down to my waist takes forever to dry; it was soaking wet, making me uncomfortable and cold. The pleasant and nostalgic feeling that I had when I finished Operation Christmas went right out the window.
Sam is cooking dinner in the dark.
When the guys finally got home, we manually lit the gas stove, heating leftovers. I sat with a hat, fleece pants, and a hoodie under a mountain of blankets. The power didn’t come back on until almost midnight, and the road crews still hadn’t been out. We had over eight inches of heavy snow. The guys went outside to start digging out, but the driveway was covered with snow as soon as they made a pass with the snowplow or shovel.
After the power came on, we sat together, catching up with each other’s day. They liked how the tree and decorations came out this year. It was still dumping heavy snow outside, and everything was tranquil. Last night, we decided that we wouldn’t be attending our farmer’s market today, not knowing how much snow we would still be getting and how the roads would be at 5 am.
Today is a gift of a “free” day to use as I wish; we never have a Saturday off, so it is like a luxury to me. Have a great weekend, guys! 🎄❄️⛄️🕯
Seven years ago I worked on Thanksgiving Day at Stewarts Shops; known for their ice cream and milk. Stewarts also sells gas, food, beer & wine, and groceries. I worked the early shift with my manager Bob. Bob is the best boss I have ever had. I’ve worked for a lot of people, but Bob is one of those salt of the earth kind of guys.
Bob was the hardest worker in the shop even though he was the manager, which most times isn’t the case. When I am a manager I try to be the hardest worker as well. I have a lot of respect for him and enjoyed working my shifts with him.
As I worked making coffee, making food, ringing the register, and a million other tasks that are expected of you, I listened to Bob say, “Happy Thanksgiving” to our customers. What struck me every time he said it, was how he said it.
Bob put the emphasis on the “thanks” not giving. I always heard people including myself say it all in one word. Thanksgiving. What’s the difference? I will try to explain.
Bob said thanksgiving in a way of “giving thanks.” Thanks…giving as opposed to Thanksgiving. I thought about it after my shift and realized what Bob, a church-going man, was actually saying to people. I felt dumb that I never thought about the word or the meaning before.
I looked up the word thanksgiving. It really comes down to simple grammar. The holiday Thanksgiving is spelled with a capital T which is different than spelling it with a lower case t meaning, “the act of giving thanks.” Ah, now it made sense.
I think everyone, myself included thinks about Thanksgiving as a holiday. It is a holiday because Abraham Lincoln declared it a holiday of giving thanks back in 1863.
Growing up I was taught that the first Thanksgiving was celebrated by the pilgrims from the Mayflower and the indigenous people that used to be known as Native Americans or Indians way back then. It was a celebration of their first harvest together. From what I have read recently, that is all a bunch of bullshit.
Some say the first Thanksgiving took place in Virginia back in the 1600s. Some say the first Thanksgiving wasn’t the pretty picture that was painted for us, which I believe is most likely true.
America isn’t the only country that celebrates Thanksgiving, many countries and islands have their own Thanksgiving holidays in different months of the year.
To me, the act of giving thanks can be and should be something to do every day. Performing the act of giving thanks doesn’t require roasting a turkey or chowing down on pumpkin pie, it requires the simple act of thanking God, the universe, or whatever higher power you believe in.
Thanksgiving means more to most people in the last two years due to the pandemic than ever. Last year, families weren’t allowed to get together to celebrate the holiday. Many people lost loved ones and friends that they didn’t get to say goodbye to making everyone cherish our relationships more. We hug more now that we can and say, “I love you.”
Our country is a mess and covid is still running rampant throughout communities, but we still have so much to be thankful for. The first thing I do when I wake up every day is to give thanks…grateful I even woke up, something everyone doesn’t get to do.
After seeing the grocery store shelves empty last year I always give thanks in the store that the shelves are full. I am grateful we can pay for groceries, heat, and other basic necessities.
I am grateful for my family and friends. I am very grateful for our business and our customers. I am grateful for belly dance and that I still have the ability to dance for hours at a time and the wonderful women I have the pleasure to teach and dance with.
Finally, I am grateful that I had the balls to start a blog this year. I am beyond grateful for my readers and that you have chosen to come along on my journey with me. Thank you!
Happy Thanksgiving guys! Enjoy your holiday and know that thanksgiving can be something to celebrate every day and not just the fourth Thursday in November. Bon Appetite…
