It’s a Hard Knock Life for Us

My husband takes great pride in his Christmas trees.

Every year we pick a tree out, bring it home and he meticulously strings lights around each branch, a process that takes about a week, give or take. He strings more than a thousand lights on our tree and it usually looks beautiful! This year I’d planned on going to Home Depot with him the day before Thanksgiving with our grandson Wyatt, but when Wyatt arrived early, I decided to head down to the Keys to beat the Holiday traffic. Emma was going with him, so I figured she would ensure he picked a good tree.

We usually get our tree the day AFTER Thanksgiving, but Zeke had heard there was a Christmas tree shortage, so he felt he needed to go the day BEFORE. He wasn’t happy I left for the Keys and left this merry little chore to him. After they returned from Home Depot, Emma sent me a photo of the tree. I was horrified. Not only was it very holey, but one side, the branches stuck straight up, like the tree had gone to bed with its hair wet and it stuck that way. Emma sent me a photo of the other side. There were no good sides! I called her to confirm it was a horrible as it looked. She assured me that it was.

I figured if you went with your Dad it would be ok.

I said.

Emma said the guy at Home Depot told them all the trees were awful this year and that the tree looked deceptively full when they saw it. A friend in a group chat sent a panicked text the day after Thanksgiving saying she couldn’t find a tree at her go-to spot, so went to the Firefighter’s Lot and there was in a LONG LINE, so if you wanted a tree you needed to go soon. She usually gets a beautiful 12-foot tree, but this year said she got a “baby tree” and saved her husband a lot of money.

People in the text group that had pre-lit Balsam Hill (fake) trees were gloating about how they loved their tree; one person who paid $320 for an eight-foot tree agreed a Balsam Hill tree might be in her future. I sent a photo of the pathetic tree Zeke dragged home, with the caption “When you let your husband go Christmas tree shopping without you.” And then posted it on Instagram. Nothing says the Holidays like a public outing on Social Media.

It was, of course, compared to the Charlie Brown Christmas Tree. And, like that tree, it was suggested that with lights, garland, ribbons and ornaments, it could be made beautiful. I told them that there wasn’t enough lipstick in the world to make this pig of a tree look pretty. Someone else (Tami) suggested we cut some of the long branches sticking up and insert them into the center, since the (crooked) trunk was showing. Everyone agreed it was an awful tree; one person suggested he’d purposely picked a terrible-looking tree so I would never let him shop for a Christmas tree alone again.

My mother was babysitting Phoenix at my house the day after Thanksgiving, so I called her to see how it was going. He’s at the age where he has separation anxiety so when he saw my Mom, he burst into tears and cried himself to sleep. I asked her: “Have you seen our tree?” She couldn’t have missed it as it’s in the corner of the living room, where you first walk in.

Yes, what happened? Zeke usually takes such pride in his trees.

my Mother.

This cracked me up. I explained to her the Christmas tree shortage etc…. Supply chain, blah, blah blah.

We celebrated Thanksgiving in the Keys.

It was nice, but a bit of a production. I’m not set up to roast a turkey there so had to bring: the roasting pan, baster, electric knife, gravy boats, casserole dishes, pie plates, pie crust protectors, tablecloth and decorations. Also, all the food- Cranberry Sauce, Sweet Potatoes, Mashed Potatoes, crudite, dip- I’d made ahead. I went down with Wyatt on Wednesday, put a rub on the turkey (which was still semi-frozen), made the Green Bean Casserole and Pumpkin Pies. Wyatt helped with the pies, whipping the pumpkin puree with the spices and egg yolks and whipping the egg whites before we poured it into the crust and baked them. It was Julia Child’s recipe for Aunt Helen’s Fluffy Pumpkin Pie.

Zeke arrived bright and early Thanksgiving (also my birthday) morning and I put on the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade for Wyatt to watch. This is a tradition in our family and my grandmother always used to call us to make sure we were watching. I sort of forced Wyatt to watch (he was bored) but I love it, especially the floats, The Rockettes and the Broadway play performances. It made me want to go to New York!

A.J. and Justin arrived with Phoenix about an hour before we ate. I’d put a Spicy Rub on the Turkey (Butterball recipe) and it turned out delicious and moist, with my grandmother’s Sausage Stuffing the star of the show. I’ve tried getting Organic Turkey at Whole Foods that cost a fortune and couldn’t tell the difference, so this year I got a good old Butterball for fifteen bucks at Publix. Everything else was delicious, and as we all tried the Pumpkin Pie, Wyatt was proud that he helped make it and said the special ingredient he added was love.

I can taste it in every bite.

Justin said.

I hope you taste the love this Holiday season and remember- don’t let your husband go Christmas Tree shopping without you!

Up Next: Italian Hot Chocolate

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!