To All the Scrooges Out There…Bah Humbug!

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by Susan McBride

You’d think that with the world in such turmoil people would start being nicer to each other, but it seems just the opposite. I don’t know why civility seems such a rarity these days, but it is (had a nice rant with Maggie on Wednesday about this!). Is it because technology has made it unnecessary to deal with people face to face? Is it that profit has taken such precedence over people that “customer service” has become as extinct as “Made in the U.S.A.”? Is it because rudeness has become so commonplace that it’s pretty much acceptable? What the heck’s going on, and how can we fix it?

During hard times, people are supposed to band together, aren’t they? Instead of sounds of cooperation, all I hear is political sniping. I am so sick of seeing grown-ups on TV, lying and arguing and acting like misbehaving children (paging SuperNanny!). How can we expect our kids to act polite if there aren’t any role models of politeness to follow?

I’m feeling strangely nostaglic for my growing-up years. We moved around a lot when I was a kid, but every new neighborhood we landed in had a similar sense of community. You knew all the families on your street and probably several more streets around you. Neighbors looked out for neighbors, and any families with kids became close friends. We shared dinners, played kickball or softball or Red Rover, and raced our bikes up and down the streets. I had a cute older boy once offer me a cigarette while hiding behind a bush during flashlight tag, and I realized after one puff that I never wanted a cigarette to touch my lips again! When I fell off the slide and landed on my head during recess (brilliantly trying to go down standing up in tennis shoes), my mom couldn’t be reached. So Mrs. Butler next-door picked me up and let me lay on her couch and watch TV, eating Charleston Chews, until my mom got home hours later. It was awesome.

As I grew up and moved around a few times as an adult, I felt more of a sense of isolation in my neighborhoods. There’s more distance between people, and everyone’s so wary (perhaps, rightly so, considering the headlines on the evening news). Could be that all this fear and distance has made people less practiced in common courtesies. I’m rather stunned when someone opens a door for me these days (and it’s usually an older man). I actually try to open doors for people whenever I can, just to freak them out.

And the uncivility doesn’t stop with pedestrians. It’s almost worse when people get in their cars. I dread having to go anywhere as no one seems to obey traffic rules anymore. Red lights don’t mean “stop” for most. In St. Louis, if you have any sense, you wait about three beats for cars to keep going through a red light at an intersection before you can go on the green. Say the guy in the far left lane decides he needs to be in the far right lane. No problem. He just cuts across three lanes of traffic to make his exit. It’s ridiculous. I don’t say the f-word in public and only in private when I’m very frustrated; but somehow when I’m out running errands, it pops out of my mouth a lot. Were drivers always this bad? Or is it more of the rudeness thing? The “I don’t give a s**t about anyone else but myself” attitude that seems so prevalent?

I know, I know. It’s the holiday season. Everything should be all pretty lights and bows, but I can’t seem to stop stumbling over Scrooges everywhere I go. Now that I’ve ranted, I’m going to say “poo poo to mean people” (did I do that right, Marian?). I am going to stick a smile on my face even if I’m pinned against the Wii display during crowded shopping days. I plan to say, “Happy Holidays,” open doors, and be as pleasant as can be no matter how many Scrooges I encounter. If I’m nice then maybe it’ll make someone else feel nicer, too, and so on and so on, like that old shampoo commercial. Pretty soon it’ll catch on like the swine flu and become an epidemic! (And, no, I haven’t been dipping into the loaded eggnog–yet–but that does sound mighty, um, nice!)

The Puck Does not Stop Here!

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Nikki Bonanni has worked in the fitness industry for almost 20 years. In the 90’s she began as a Fitness Director at a small health club in Ithaca, NY, eventually becoming the general manager. While at that small club Nikki joined forces with a friend to open a personal training and consulting business which thrived for 6 years with over a dozen trainers working in both the gym and traveling to private homes. She is now an Exercise Physiologist in a new health club that is co-owned with a medical center, and is a part-time faculty member teaching at Ithaca College. In her spare time, she is working on her first mystery novel.

I am a true believer in doing things that make you happy. Trusting that if you want it bad enough there is always a way to make it happen. Realistically everyone needs to make a living and pay the bills. I am lucky enough to have a career that is also fun—I am an Exercise Physiologist in a health club that sits on an inlet to Cayuga Lake. Granted there are long hours and sometimes weekends, but the benefits far outweigh that. I get to see the water and wildlife, work with interesting people helping them become healthier, be active throughout my workday….and wear sneakers to work!

Work isn’t the only thing that defines you, and I have many other interests. One that has been a part of my life since I was a kid is mysteries. From Nancy Drew and The Hardy Boys to Agatha Christie I have always been an avid reader. For many years I also professed that I wanted to be a mystery writer. Thanks to Carolyn Hart and The Christie Caper I became aware of this real life conference called Malice Domestic.

One day years later I was training a client who was also a mystery reader and mentioned Malice. Sure enough she said she’d love to go with me. There it was, my first opportunity to become part of a different world. That led to investigating other conferences, and although it took awhile to get there I was starting to realize one of my dreams. For the past two years I’ve gone to a number of these GREAT events. I have also started to write, and have been overwhelmed with the generosity, help and friendship of other authors. If I had not taken that first step this thing that is now a big part of my life would never have happened.

As I said, I have a lot of interests, so there was still something that I loved that was missing. Sports. Throughout high school and college I played several varsity team sports. When you join the adult world, lack of time and opportunity often lead to athletes ‘retiring’.

One of my clients happened to be a goalie on a women’s recreational hockey team. Since field hockey was one of my sports I expressed an interest in maybe one day trying ice hockey. She invited me to an open hockey, and even though I told her I could only skate forward she insisted I go play. Needless to say it was a bit of a disaster! However, after a friend nicely told me I could not play hockey until I learned to skate, I decided that I did indeed want to do it.

It was a harsh reality for me to not be able to have the ability to do a particular sport; I am generally at least adept at most athletic endeavors. Skating was not so. It was beginner lessons for me, and even the little kid version of ‘wiggle your butt’ could not propel me skating backwards—I just ground holes in the ice.

If you want it badly enough, you can do it! At age 40 I really wanted to be good enough to play on a team, and after lessons, beginner women’s hockey and then spring league, I have done it now playing on two teams and having a blast!

So, since I have not actually published a book (yet), I do have a giveaway. Anyone that posts something they have done to follow their dream will be entered into a drawing for a signed copy of Hank Phillippi Ryan’s Prime Time along with a cool tote bag! Thanks Hank!!

Nikki Bonnani

So You Want to Be in Pictures?

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I read an article in the New York Times this weekend in which the writer estimated that in any given year, ten thousand reality-show contestants (actors?) grace our television screens. Ten thousand? I think that’s a conservative estimate.

As you faithful Stiletto readers know, I have partaken of a few reality shows myself. My son and I enjoy Survivor immensely and look forward to sitting together under a blanket (it’s almost winter here and I refuse to put up the heat until absolutely necessary) and criticizing each contestant’s game play. Then we talk about how long we would last on the show. (Me? One episode. Him? He’d win.) And I admit, I do enjoy the “Real Housewives of Whatever City They’re In” if only to bask in the glory that is my own lack of self-absorption and over-spending. The entire family enjoys The Amazing Race and have a new-found love for the Harlem Globetrotters after watching Big Easy and Flight Time run a very nice race against some very nasty competitors. We were sorry to see them go this past Sunday night because Big Easy couldn’t rearrange five letters to spell “FRANZ.” Oh, well.

By the way, if I ever make the Harlem Globetrotters, I would like my stage name to be “Paperback Writer.” I know—not original. But it’s better than “Can’t Make a Foul Shot” which is probably more appropriate.

All kidding aside, I have never had an urge to be a reality-show participant, but from what I glean from the Times article, I’m in the minority. That’s why it wasn’t a shock in one sense to read about the State Dinner crashers, a former Redskins cheerleader (if the wife is to be believed—no one on the Redskins’ cheerleading staff remembers her) and her equally fame-hungry husband. On what planet is it acceptable to crash a dinner at the White House? I guess if you’re dying to be recognized or to exploit your fifteen minutes of fame, it would be this planet.

There is so much wrong with this scenario that I hardly know where to begin. Breach of security? Check. Possible international incident? Check. Complete lack of class? Double check. In my humble opinion, I hope they are roasted like my Thanksgiving turkey when they sit before a select group of representatives tomorrow. And then, I hope they go to jail.

You want to be on television? Shoot a video and stick it on You Tube. Then, tell all of your friends to watch it and help you make it go “viral.” I assure you, some nightly news program will pick it up and televise it. Then you can live your lifelong dream of seeing yourself on the tube and we can all go back to our daily lives, secure in the knowledge that the Secret Service can focus on their job of protecting the President from the true crazies, not just the ones who think it would be a hoot to get on tv.

I wish I had something more cogent to say about these two knuckleheads, but as I am sitting here writing this, I realize that their actions raise more questions than I can answer in six hundred words. What has become of our country that people are so focused on achieving some kind of fame—however dubious—that they would put the President of the United States in jeopardy, not to mention his family and guests? They are an embarrassment to our country. I know that heads are going to roll for this stunt—and I’m not saying that they shouldn’t—from members of the Secret Service to select White House staff. I wonder how that makes the party crashers feel. You got your fifteen minutes of fame, but someone is going to lose their job during the holidays.

Well done, White House party-crashing wannabe reality stars. You’re famous. Or infamous…not that you care.

Thoughts?

Maggie Barbieri

Giving Something of Ourselves

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Today a new member of our church challenged us to give something of ourselves for Christmas. His proposal is that those who feel led to help put on a dinner for those at the church or in town who have no where else to go for Christmas.

Usually we give the fixings for a Christmas dinner for those who ask. We always do the same at Thanksgiving. This is something different though, this is a real commitment because not only do some of us need to cook, he suggested that there be greeters at the door, volunteers to transport people who might need a ride, someone to hand out name tags, and that we sit and visit with people we don’t know. It also means giving up Christmas day at home.

As I sat in the pew thinking about it, I realized that our family, those who actually come to the house for the gift-giving, do so on Christmas Eve. On Christmas Day we have the big dinner at one o’clock, the same time as this church dinner is being proposed. So–I could cook a turkey, make a big container of dressing and another of yams and take it to the church.

Since my son’s family live next door and always come for Christmas dinner, I wasn’t sure how they would react to this–but they were sitting on the same pew and heard the same proposal. After church we went out to eat together and I said, “I think I’m going to cook a turkey and some of the trimmings for the Christmas dinner.”

My daughter-in-law said, “I think I’d like to be a part of that too. We can all go over to the church and have our dinner there. My granddaughter said, “I could do the name tags.”

This is quite an undertaking as our church is really small. This morning I bet we only had about 30 people there–some were still off somewhere for the Thanksgiving holiday. Our little town is interesting–there are lots of rich retirees and there are a lot of down and outers, many of them live in what used to be a tuberculosis hospital that’s been turned into low income housing for the elderly and handicapped. I suspect that’s where a lot of people will come from.

You know what though, I bet this will turn out to be something we’ll all love being a part of–and if it doesn’t work out like we’re hoping, well, we’ll have tried.

And that’s how the Christmas season is beginning in my neck of the woods–or should I say in the foothills of the Sierra.

Marilyn

Striking a Happy Holiday Balance

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The official holiday shopping season has begun. Our family celebrates Chanukah, also called The Feast of Lights. The first of the eight candles will be lit the evening of December 11. Oy!

Our youngest daughter won’t be home from college until the holiday is actually over – so I plan to send some gifts to her at school, and save the rest for when she’s eating some latkes at the dinner table. Son number one and his wife live in Washington – so I need to get their gifts in the mail. If I’d been smart, I’d have had them ready and wrapped when they were here for Thanksgiving. Son number two and his wife, and son number three, all live in the area – so we’ll probably see them for at least one of the eight nights of the holiday.

I can give you the standard spiel, which is that Chanukah is a minor Jewish holiday, never intended to duplicate the breadth of Christmas. No trees, no garlands, no ornaments – at least not when I was growing up. Today, there are tons of decorations you can buy – but there’s a not-so-small voice that echoes in my mind that reminds me that I’m not supposed to go for the glitz (much as I love Christmas decorations) when celebrating the Feast of Lights. Chanukah commemorates the rededication of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem at the time of the Maccabean revolt. Desecrated by the forces of Antiochus IV, when the Jews retook the temple there was only enough holy oil to fuel the eternal flame for one day…but the miracle is that the oil lasted eight days, enough time to consecrate more holy olive oil.

Traditionally we eat latkes – potatoes fried in oil. In Israel they eat sufganiyot, jam-filled fried donuts. We play dreidel – a game with a spinning top with four Hebrew letters, Nun, Gimel, Alef, Shin, symbolizing the sentence, “Nes Gadol Haya Sham” — A great miracle happened there.” Actually in Israel, the final letter is changed to Pei , to read “Nes Gadol Haya Po,” — A great miracle happened here.”

I confess I get caught up in the commercial holiday spirit because I love picking out gifts for loved ones and seeing their delight. And while I could certainly give presents other times of the year – and do – there is something fantastically fun about enjoying the communal spirit of shopping and giving – both on a personal and charitable level at this time of year. I’m a wrapping paper connoisseur, insisting on sharp tight corners on the package, and choosing just the right bow, because the original Evelyn insisted a present always required a ribbon. Who knew?

So I try to strike the right balance between the religious components and commercialism. And there is, of course, the thrill of the hunt – finding the perfect present at just the right price. I’ve never shopped on Black Friday – except this year, when I carefully combined coupons and promotion codes, and stopped by several online stores. Throw in some free shipping and this is one happy shopper. Might I remind all that books, especially mystery books, are always a perfect, one-size-fits-all gift!

So as the weeks move along during this holiday season, whatever you are celebrating, I wish for you the joy of giving, the delight of seeing those you love savor your thoughtfulness, and the importance of remembering those less fortunate at this time.

We’ll talk more in the weeks ahead. Enjoy!

Evelyn David

Murder Takes the Cake by Evelyn David
Murder Off the Books by Evelyn David
http://www.evelyndavid.com

From the Trenches: When Every NaNo Second Counts

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Monday, the last day of November, will end National Novel Writing Month, also called NaNoWriMo, or for those beaten down by its grueling schedule who can no longer manage the extra syllables, just NaNo.

Every November for the last ten years, crazy writers worldwide have undertaken Chris Baty’s challenge to write a 50,000 word novel in one month. Novels in their completed form, like the one you’re probably reading this week, are usually between 70,000-90,000 words and, generally speaking, many authors produce a book each year. So while 50,000 words is short by industry standards for book-length fiction, it’s gargantuan in terms of what most writers can swing in thirty days.

In his own 50,000 word book No Plot? No Problem! Baty explains how this mammoth task can be tackled. The book is a riot and I found it totally uplifting and inspiring. Even if you think you’ll never participate in NaNoWriMo I’d highly recommend his entertaining book for people who want to shake up their writing routines.

To summarize: During the month of November, writers put down 50,000 words—no editing allowed. He stresses that there is a time for writing (November) and a time for editing (December and onward). When we write passages that will never make the cut, rather than delete them, we are to italicize them. This is how we’ll know what to take out later. But for November, all the words stay in the manuscript because the name of the game is output, not quality.

Between you and me, I italicized thousands of words this month.

Professional writers fall on both sides of the NaNo fence. Some say it’s better to write carefully and well, editing as you go, because there will be less work waiting during the revision phase. Others embrace the stream-of-consciousness approach and say that there’s a creative part and an editing part to the writing process, and that when we’re being creative we must suppress our inner critic.

At Bouchercon, I talked to writers from both camps and told them I was planning to do NaNoWriMo this year. Half of them told me to go for it. The others cautioned that it was the worst thing I could do. But my mind was already made up.

I’d known about NaNoWriMo for years but had never tried it because in previous Novembers I’d always been in the middle of a project. The idea behind the exercise is not to write 50,000 more words of a project you’ve already started, but rather to start from scratch. As it happened, this year I finished the first draft of one project in October, which left November ripe for the picking. I figured all I had to lose was one month, and my writing output being what it normally is (not much) this was a no-brainer. I had nothing to lose and a potential story thread to gain.

The reason I decided to do it is because I’m a chronic over-editor. If I don’t force myself to move on in a story, I will tweak and improve and play around with early chapters forever, at the expense of not producing anything new. This doesn’t make the revision process faster, either, as those Bouchercon writers suggested it would. In the last book I wrote, for example, I massaged the early chapters until I thought they were absolutely perfect. Then my cherished critique partner convinced me to start the novel in Chapter Four. (He was right.) So where’s the economy in that?

No, the reason NaNoWriMo appealed to me is that I had a vague, general idea about what I wanted to write about in my next book. I wanted to write a mystery based on a love affair and I wanted to set it at a hockey rink. Being a mystery, someone would die, but I didn’t know who, or why, or how. This is not the sort of ambiguity upon which my editor looks favorably.

The first step of starting a new book is sending her a synopsis. In a synopsis, we basically tell the whole story to our editors in a couple of pages, including the twists, misdirections, and ending—none of which I had—and this way we can find out ahead of time if something major should be changed before we spend the next year wandering off into the weeds. So my reason for jumping into NaNo was to figure out what was going to happen in the book. I didn’t actually plan to use any passages I produced because I believed Chris Baty when he said, “Make no mistake: You will be writing a lot of crap.” (I’m here to tell you he was right.) Rather, for me, NaNo would be a success if I came away with enough material to kluge a synopsis.

Enter real life. A few weeks ago, a colleague remarked that he thinks I organize my thoughts by writing. We were talking about the scientific papers we co-author, but his observation struck me as applicable for my fiction too. I decided that if I was lucky, I’d come out of NaNo with a 50,000 word outline, basically. I was willing to throw away all those words if my thoughts about the next book would finally be organized. Or even closer to organized.

But what about setting realistic goals? I work. Have kids. I’m training for a couple races. And there was my addiction to Facebook to consider.

I also had a lot of weekend commitments that took me out of town in November. So I modified my NaNo goal to 30,000 words. Before NaNo, a successful writing month for me produced 10,000 words of much higher quality so I thought that aiming for 30,000 words of drivel might be a fair compromise.

Finally, let’s not underestimate the convenience of letting our standards slide as things get tough. I draw upon my marathoning experience for illustrative purposes:

Before the race: “I’m gonna set a personal record!”
At Mile 10: “I feel so good. I’m invincible!”
Mile 19: “Guess I went out a little fast. If I finish as least as good as last year, that’ll be fine.”
Mile 22: “Why am I here? I hate running and all my friends are at the movies. I want their Junior Mints.”
Mile 24: “I’ll finish when I finish. Hell with it.”
Mile 26.2: “I missed my goal, but I’ve finished something most people will never start.”

That’s kind of how this month went for me. The New England Crime Bake conference over the weekend of November 13th and 14th set me back. When I came home, there was so much to catch up on, including kids’ activities and sports, and Thanksgiving events at their schools (that took up my lunch hours, during which I had been writing NaNo stuff before). Long story short, the words just weren’t coming as fast as they had earlier in the month. I decided to give myself a break on the word count and focus on just writing something every day, which is another thing I don’t usually do.

So how did I do? When this posts, I’ll have three days left, so I’m not done putting words down for this experiment. But at the time of this writing (Tuesday) I’ve penned 25,300 words on 95 pages, have a structure for the story, an interesting new character, and an idea about a motive. Whodunit details remain sketchy, and I won’t be using any of the words I actually put down. But over the holidays I hope to produce that synopsis.

I missed eight writing days in November. Ready for the excuses?
1. One day I was out of town for the Ft. Worth Mud Run.
2. The next day I just didn’t feel like doing anything. Happens.
3. One weekend I was at Crime Bake—too busy talking about writing to actually do any.
4. One day I got home from work and went straight to my daughters’ basketball practices, after which I came home and collapsed.
5. Another day I chose the gym over the keyboard. That was a sanity call.
6. This week I decided, rather abruptly, to paint my dining room. That took out another couple days.

Observations: Some days I wrote a couple thousand words, others I wrote a couple hundred. I wrote more longhand in November than I ever have before, scribbling words in a spiral notebook I carried around in my purse. I discovered that longhand works for me, and I’ll keep that notebook handy for long waits and unexpected downtime. I also learned that I can walk to a picnic bench near my lab and eat lunch outside while I write. I’ve never mixed business (day job) and pleasure (writing) in the same hours before, so this was a neat discovery, like stealing an extra writing hour out of the day.

By my admittedly low and sliding standards, NaNoWriMo was a success. My writing habits are more flexible than I once thought. I’d never written 4,000 words in one sitting and this month I did it twice. Before NaNo, I was unwilling to write flat dialogue or low-stakes scenes, so when I got stuck I left the keyboard, perhaps not to return for days. But by giving myself permission to explore a story in a rambling, blindfolded fashion, with no expectation of quality, I explored more possibilities. Several of them stuck and will stay in Book 3. Who knew?

Based on the last month, I’d say that if you are a disciplined writer who routinely turns out a word count with which you are satisfied, this is probably not something you need to explore. If you are that writer, then you already have a method that’s working for you. But if you’re like me, paralyzed to move ahead in your story unless you know what is supposed to happen next, then NaNo is a good exercise in pushing forward through the uncomfortable parts of a storyline. Recently I was one of several guests on a Blog Talk Radio show called What’s Write for Me. We talked about our experiences with NaNoWriMo and what it meant to each of us. If you’re thinking about NaNo or just curious how it went for other writers, click over and have a listen.

With luck, I’ll be between projects again next November because I’d really like to give this another go.

Parting words:
“The greater danger for most of us lies not in setting our aim too high and falling short; but in setting our aim too low, and achieving our mark.”
— Leonardo da Vinci

Rachel Brady

Five Things I’m Thankful For

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Happy Thanksgiving from all of us at The Stiletto Gang!

On Thanksgiving, do you stop to think about all the things you’re thankful for? I do. There are so many, but most can fit into these five categories.

The top five things I’m thankful for:

5. Health and Happiness (knock on wood; we have obstacles, but overall, we’re good!)

4. Writing for a Living (to earn *a meager* living doing what you love is fantastic)

3. The writing and book loving community (truly, they are an amazing group of people)

2. Good Friends and Family (because what would life be without them?)

and number 1 on my ‘Thankful’ list is…

1. My wonderful kids and husband (because they really do give my life meaning)

Have a wonderful day!!

~Misa

Of Turkeys and Traffic

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Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and we’re flung far and wide this year, people on the move. We’re the stay at home people whereas my parents are the flung-far people. Here at Chez Barbieri we are hosting Jim’s side of the family, which makes us a nice, even dozen. Fortunately, that number represents the maximum occupancy capacity in the house and in particular, around the dining room table, so just one more person and we’d find ourselves elbow to elbow while enjoying my brined turkey.

Mom and Dad have headed south to see my sister who lives in Georgia. In typical Mom/Dad style, they planned on leaving for the South at six in the morning to “beat the traffic” but decided, after a spirited discussion at two in the morning that they would leave then. When my mother called me at two o’clock in the afternoon on the day they were supposed to arrive at my sister’s (their original e.t.d. had them arriving around dinner time) and told me that they were fifteen minutes from her house, I was surprised. Our conversation went like this:

Me: Didn’t you leave at six this morning? Doesn’t it take thirteen hours to get there? (I had visions of my father doing 120 miles per hour down 95 and was wondering how they were still alive. I’m bad at math, as we all know, but even I can figure out that the trip not taking thirteen hours means that they were traveling at very high speeds.)

Mom: Well, Dad got up in the middle of the night and I was watching television so we just decided to leave then. Oh, and by the way, we were supposed to start back the Tuesday after Thanksgiving, but we’re going to leave the Saturday after Thanksgiving instead. You know, to beat the traffic.

Me (incredulously): You haven’t even arrived at your original destination, but you’re already talking about when you’re coming home?

Mom (through gales of hysterical laughter): We’re old! That’s what old people do!

Newsflash: they’re not old. And they shouldn’t be doing what old people do. They’ve got at least ten years before they need to start doing that. But it provided us some good laughs when Mom realized that indeed, they are mostly retired and have nothing to rush back here for. We’ll be eating leftovers for weeks, so surely they’re not anxious to get back to have dinner at our house.

Now, I’ve taken a poll and apparently, many people of retirement age are alternately fascinated and horrified by traffic and will do anything they can to avoid it. A friend’s father begins his trek from Florida at nine at night and drives until he hits…you guessed it…traffic. Only then will he stop to eat and/or go to the bathroom.

I’m thrilled that we’re staying home because the only traffic I will have to contend with will be the backup at the bathroom door as several Barbieri’s attempt to shower and look presentable for the day in the only bathroom with a shower. I’m absolutely positive that “bathroom rage” will ensue. But there is no way that I’m getting up any earlier to “beat the traffic.” I’ll just wait at the back of the line until I see a break in the action and then I’ll make my move. Just like any good driver.

Happy thanksgiving, Stiletto faithful.

Maggie Barbieri

Thanksgiving Past and Present

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On Facebook a challenge was put out to tell something that we are thankful for everyday until Thanksgiving. That is not a hard task for me. I have so much to be thankful for, I’ve been truly blessed by having a loving husband, a large family, many friends, and a career that I love–actually there have been more than one of those.

Today, though, I’d like to write about Thanksgivings past and present.

When we were kids (my sis and I) growing up we always went to my grandparents house in South Pasadena for Thanksgiving along with my aunt, her husband, and their one child, a daughter. We were never allowed to wash or dry grandmother’s good dishes, so we always headed outside. Only a block or two away from grandma’s house were mansions. We loved to walk around and snoop, peeking inside gates and walking up long driveways to gaze at these huge houses. Once my sister and I played tennis (or tried to play) in someone’s tennis court that was right inside the open gates. The people came home and smiled and waved at us. (If kids did something like that today, they would probably be hauled away to juvenile hall.)

After we had our first house–and several children–everyone came to our house for Thanksgiving. We set up tables in the living room in order to have enough room. I was always the cook.

Once we moved to the home we’re in now, I still was the cook and we had all sorts of relatives who came for dinner, plus for many years we had the six women we cared for in our home. This house is bigger and we have a round table with a lazy Susan in the middle that hubby build. We can fit 16 around it and there’s room to set up an extra table or two if need be.

Last year I had a break, we were invited to our youngest daughter’s for Thanksgiving. Our youngest son and wife and their daughter went too. It was a good thing because I could never have cooked a big dinner because I came down with the flu and spent most of my time in bed.

This year we’re having dinner at home again. Guests will be son, wife and grandaughter, my second oldest daughter and her husband, their daughter (another grandaughter) her hubby and three kids, and her other grandma who lives with them. I wouldn’t be surprised if there wasn’t another guest or two, after all my grandson is a preacher–if he learns someone doesn’t have a place to go for Thanksgiving he’ll probably invite whoever it is to come to our place.

My daughter-in-law went with me to shop for the groceries needed and she’ll do the mashed potatoes and a great salsa that she makes with lots and lots of fresh tomatoes, avocados, red onions, cilantro and a jalapeno. Doesn’t sound very Thankgiving-ish, but believe me, it’s delicious. Granddaughter has asked to make the green bean casserole and I’m quite happy to let her.

I don’t like to bake so I ordered my pies from a new little place in town. I’ll pick them up later today.

Believe me, I’ve figured out the easy ways to do everything. We serve buffet style, putting all the food on the kitchen counters. I even use paper plates so I don’t have to spend time doing dishes after we’re through eating.

Of course the TV will be turned to football games, but the kids and I will play our favorite card game, Estimation. That’s sort of become a new Thanksgiving tradition.

And that will be Thanksgiving Present.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone, hope you can all be surrounded by those you love as you eat your Thanksgiving meal.

Marilyn

The Thanksgiving Menu

/in /by

Evelyn David will be at two Thanksgiving tables this year – a thousand miles apart geographically but just nextdoor in spirit.

Rhonda:
I watched an HGTV cooking special the other night. Four families were competing for $10,000 and the honor of best Thanksgiving feast. They had six hours to prepare the meal from scratch. Each team had 3 members. Each team’s leader was the matriarch of the family. The obligatory turkey ranged from fried, to roasted, to “tofu-ed.” It was fun to see the variety in the menus and the interaction of the families.

My family is from Oklahoma and our traditional Thanksgiving meal is rooted firmly in Southern cuisine. A large turkey is prepared. If it’s not at least 18 pounds, it’s not worth the trouble. It’s thawed over several days in a cooler, then wrestled into the oven by my mom (the only one in the house up at 5 am.)

I get involved in with the preparation of the centerpiece of our meal – the cornbread & sage dressing. It’s very labor intensive – lots of chopping, mixing, and tasting. The recipe is very close to what our ancestors fixed a hundred years ago. Each generation has tweaked the spices – my paternal grandmother added a couple of cans of chopped oysters. My mom and I have added cheese. About ten years ago we invented “dressing balls.” We had more dressing than we could fit in the oven to bake, so we put the leftover raw dressing in greased muffin tins. We baked it after the rest of the meal was done. The result was individual portions of dressing that had a crusty top and sides – perfect for reheating in a microwave for the second, third, and fourth meals with the Thanksgiving leftovers. Now we bake all the dressing in the muffin tins. Modesty aside, I’m sure our Thanksgiving dressing is the best in the world.

The rest of our menu includes gravy, mashed potatoes, a cranberry/apple ring, a pineapple/orange Jell-O dish, green beans, steamed broccoli, baked sweet potatoes with marshmallows, homemade yeast rolls, pumpkin pie, and cherry pie. We wash it all down with gallons of iced tea.

My co-author is from New York but her mother was Southern. We’ve found that we have some of the same traditions and some different.

Marian:
Thanksgiving dinner seems to be set in stone. Sure we can mix it up a little, maybe try a new dessert, but basically my family wants to see the same items on the menu from year to year, regardless of whether I’ve got my Barefoot Contessa apron on or not.

Turkey is a given – although personally I ate all sides last year and never touched the bird. Sweet potatoes with marshmallows is a staple, a salad (which is more an homage to nutrition than actually eaten), and this year I’m trying a new cranberry conserve, but I’ll also have a can of Ocean Spray cranberry jelly for the traditionalists in the group. My daughter wants to make a pecan pie (yum!), and I’m going to make a devil’s food cake with a turkey decoration. If time is running short, it may just be chocolate cake sans the fancy bird – chocolate is a perfect way to express thankfulness.

Equally important to me as what is served, is what it is served on. I have several platters that belonged to my mother, the original Evelyn. A holiday wouldn’t be complete without having those dishes heaped with food – reminding me of wonderful holidays of long ago.

Our latest mystery, Murder Takes the Cake is set during the week before Thanksgiving. In one scene our main female character is debating on how she was going to spend her holiday and with whom.

Murder Takes the Cake – Evelyn David – May 2009

Mac started to walk to the door, but paused. “So what are you doing on Thanksgiving? Jeff and Kathleen want me to join the family, but I’m not up to that scene. You’re probably doing something with your family.…”

“Not this year.” Rachel sighed. “Sam is going skiing with his new girlfriend and my brother is off visiting his fiancée’s family. Kathleen asked me to come too, but I’m not up for that scene either. I thought I’d stay home and feel sorry for myself.”

“So maybe we could do that together? Or if we got really inspired we could get a pizza and watch some football or something?”

“Or maybe we could eat some turkey with cornbread stuffing, sweet potatoes, green bean casserole, and pecan pie and then watch a movie?” Rachel countered.

“We’d need to negotiate the menu. Whiskey doesn’t like pecan pie.”

“How does she feel about apple pie?”

“A la mode?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“It’s a date.”

Tell us about your Thanksgiving menu? Does it vary from year to year? What’s your favorite dish?

Happy Turkey Day from Rhonda, Marian, and Evelyn David

http://www.evelyndavid.com/