I noticed.

I said, sarcasm intended.

She brushed that aside to tell me that she believed our house was encroaching on her property five feet. Luckily Zeke, who had come home early so we could take a walk, was walking out the door at precisely that moment.

You should talk to my husband about this. He’s a zoning attorney.

I said, with perfect timing.

Zeke walked out, talked to her and her contractor. He explained he recently looked at our survey and didn’t think she was correct, but would check. She had severe eyebrows and wasn’t in the least bit friendly.

Well, it’s mostly shrubbery.

she said dismissively, about the part of our property encroaching on hers.

I tried to make small talk with and told her, I understood from my former neighbor Maggie that she was building the house for her parents.

That’s one of the options.

she said.

Making it sound like it wasn’t an option at all. The other options, I guess, were her moving in or flipping it. I’m praying for her flipping it, as I already don’t like this woman. After our walk, I raced upstairs to find the survey for our house. Eureka! Then raced down to show it to Zeke, as I am hopeless at reading plans, blueprints or surveys.

Actually, not only are we not encrouching on her property, she’s six inches into ours!

said Zeke.

I have to admit I did a happy dance in the kitchen. And then had a celebratory glass of wine. Zeke texted her this message (they’d exchanged phone numbers) and then… crickets. All night until the next morning, when she finally replied. All work ceased (thankfully) next door for the next couple days.

Unfortunately, Zeke found another survey that showed we were encroaching on her property by four feet in one area, tapering off eventually to zero. She had two surveys that showed were weren’t encroaching, one that said we were. At this writing, I’m not sure where we stand as they’ve just been exchanging phone messages and haven’t actually talked.

On better news, my Big Mini (an oxymoron) has finally been shipped from Europe and is heading my way as we speak. I am hoping to have it by the time we visit Disney next month. Liam (middle grandchild in Colorado) has started walking, right before he turns one; we’ll be seeing them at the end of this month for his first birthday.

A.J. came over the other day to make Sweet Potato Casserole (a family favorite) and Pecan Pie at my house. I was making my Party Potatoes and as we both were in the kitchen, cooking with the wonderful smells and with the baby crawling around, I thought about how Thanksgiving really is my favorite holiday. It’s all about food, family and gratitude. I saw Wyatt after school. He was proud of his Thanksgiving hat he’d made at school and I struggled to get a photo of him and his baby brother before they left, but Phoenix is a wiggle worm!

As I walked them to the car, I discovered a yellow construction paper from school. It had a turkey body in the middle and feathers, where Wyatt wrote what he was grateful for. Mom, Dad and then Eric, Elliot, Gabriel and Gale. There was not a beloved Gigi in sight!

Child, you cut me to the quick.

from Wizard of Oz

A.J. saw me with the paper in my hand and a shocked look on my face. She grabbed the paper.

No Mom. You will not shame him for this!

she said.

O.K. She was right, but what a difference a year makes. I expected this when he was 14 or 15, but 5? I could only imagine he was sitting around with his little friends, scribbling names on the feathers and they all decided to be thankful for each other. I knew peer pressure would rear its ugly head, but Kindergarten seems a little early to be making an appearance. He hadn’t even put his baby brother whom he adores, on a feather, but Phoenix is admittedly a hard name to spell.

He came over to say goodbye, giving me a big hug.

I love you Gigi!

said Wyatt.

So this will have to be enough. I am grateful for many things this Thanksgiving. I’m grateful to have gotten to the age of 62 intact and healthy. That I survived COVID as did my entire family. That my Mini is on its way, that I have a roof over my head (even if it’s encroaching into my neighbor’s yard), plenty of food on the table and a family to celebrate the holiday with.

Wherever you are and whatever you do, I hope you have a very Happy Thanksgiving from Foodie in Miami. Calories don’t count on Thanksgiving. You can start the diet tomorrow!

Today- 4/20- was the day my new grandson was due to be born, but he came six days early. Phoenix Lee Hodges was born on April 14th at 11:46 a.m. I already had Wyatt since I picked him up from school and he spent the night Tuesday, when A.J. called Wednesday at 5 a.m. to say she was heading to the hospital and was in labor. Six hours later, Wyatt’s little brother and my third grandson was born, all pink and cute, with long arms and legs and looking a lot like Wyatt did as a newborn.

Last week, between having Wyatt and watching Liam, I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off. Tuesday night I’d planned on making Yellowtail Snapper for dinner, so pulled it out of the freezer. It smelled a little fishy (but it is fish, after all), but still smelled fishy after I marinated it and sauteed it in butter. I’d boiled sweet potatoes to serve as a side, but as I was putting them in the microwave to heat up, I dropped the glass bowl and it shattered; pureed sweet potatoes and glass shards went flying everywhere.

“Let’s order pizza”, I said to Zeke and threw the fish and the potatoes in the garbage. So dinners this week, since I had Wyatt, were a matter of survival, not luxury. Wyatt had Chef Boyardee Spaghettios, Ravioli and when those were gone, pasta with my red sauce for dinner. Wyatt was SO excited about having a new little brother.

I’m going to look up to him and he’s going to look up to me. Well, since he’ll be in a crib, maybe he will look up to me more.

Wyatt said.

He, of course, told his friends at school about this big event. One of his friends told his Mom he would give her a sticker if she would put a baby in her belly. Big incentive.

I know it’s not like such a big deal having a baby.

Wyatt said.

Seemingly trying to minimize what had just happened.

“Oh, but it is,” I said. “Having a baby is probably the biggest deal in the world.”

I like being busy, but not over-scheduled, but this week was NUTS and I felt like I was doing everything half-assed. We got stuck in Washington D.C. until Monday, so had to tell my tennis captain I couldn’t play in our 55+ match Monday and when I got home, realized I was scheduled to play in another Beta match Thursday, on a day I was supposed to watch Liam. I e-mailed my captain, told her I couldn’t play and apologized. I also told my tennis partner I’d double-booked.

While I was watching Liam Thursday I got a phone call from my partner.

“Didn’t you say you weren’t playing today?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“Well Theresa (our captain) thought you were.”

“What?”

I could then hear Holly say “Go get your tennis shoes,” and we hung up.

Luckily it worked out and they even won their match against my old team of Riviera. When I finally got to check my emails Friday, I discovered I’d emailed another Theresa (from my garden club), instead of my tennis captain, about not being able to play. She emailed me back saying she had no idea what I was talking about. Duh!

Wyatt had Pete the Cat day and a pizza party at school on Friday, so we went to Target to get a yellow shirt for him to wear. I also let him pick a toy for himself (a torturous experience because he had to look at every toy), got a new booster seat to replace his car seat, and I let him pick out a present for the baby. He choose a pacifier with a stuffed sloth attached. At home, I glued green and red buttons on his yellow shirt (from a Pete the Cat book) and he looked so cute Friday morning, heading off to school and joining other yellow shirted pre-schoolers.

I picked him up early from school so we could go meet the new baby. He tried giving me directions to his condo on Brickell, which I’ve only been to twice. I Wazed it, but also needed gas.

“No Gigi, you need to turn here. I promise you, if you listen to me you’ll be there in no time. And there’s a gas station nearby.”

He kept insisting I listen to him until I finally said: “Wyatt- enough!”

Then I heard soft sobbing in the back seat and turned back to see Wyatt crying in his new, big boy booster seat. I felt terrible.

“I’m sorry Wyatt, but Gigi is very stressed out right now and I just need to find my way.”

It had been an eventful, but also very stressful week and all the things I do to relieve stress- walking, writing and meditating- I had no time to do. We arrived at the condo, where his Dad met us downstairs and took us up to go meet his little brother. He ran into the apartment and was so excited, rubbing together his freshly washed hands with anticipation. He got to hold him, but was a little turned off by the umbilical cord.

“What is that thing?” he asked.

A.J. explained what it was and Wyatt said “He’s losing a little of his cuteness for me because of that.”

I held the baby, so small (like a cucumber according to Wyatt) with straight, light brown hair and full beautiful lips. A.J. took some photos of me with the new baby; I had Wyatt join us, as I didn’t want him to feel left out. I’d brought over a dinner for A.J., Justin and Wyatt- baked pasta with sausage, salad and garlic bread. I hugged Wyatt goodbye, told him to call me on his Alexa if he ever needed to talk and left the little family alone. And breathed a huge sigh of relief and headed to the Keys.

To tell you the truth, I am a bit overwhelmed by it all. It was an eventful week, filled with twists and turns. It was also a wonderful week, so I’m overwhelmed with joy, happiness and hope for the future, as well. Because with three grandsons, what other choice do I have?

Up Next: Smashed Potato Appetizers