Back to Reality (part two of a series)
I have to start with sad news. My favorite blog is going on hiatus until the new year. He’s “unplugging.” I don’t know what that means. Isn’t plugging in necessary for life? The internet feeds me! I will miss Nickerblog, but I will patiently (or impatiently) await his return along with the newness of 2006.
Anyway!
This morning was in fact normal again. Too many snoozes, because I’m an idiot and watched the WPT that TiVo had taped for me not realizing that it would be two hours. Don’t make fun of me. I just recently realized I should be TiVoing the WPT when I ran out of WSOP to watch. I’m yawning right now as I type.
As we sat on the sofas and new recliners in Mike’s uncle and aunt’s basement watching the news and making fun of the cat, the yawning began, and it was time to head off to our respective beds. Mike’s mother and sister headed over to her mother’s house in the next town, Mike and I were to have the “blue room,” which has a double bed, and Mike’s father was to have the “yellow room,” which has only a twin bed. Of course, Mike’s father didn’t get that memo, and apparently he also didn’t understand the difference between blue and yellow… so he had put his stuff in the “blue room.”
Upon retrieving the stuff, he managed to ever so gracefully knock down Mike’s aunt’s full length mirror. Seven years bad luck! I was the only one wearing shoes, and so shoed everyone out of the room while I swept up the shards. Mike and his aunt showed up shortly with a vacuum cleaner, and we picked up every speck of sparkle before heading to a blissful (but tremendously terribly freezing cold - Mike’s aunt doesn’t believe in heat, I swear) sleep.
I slept in until 8:00 or so, and looked out the window to see Mike’s uncle’s new truck pulling out of the driveway, gracefully evading Mike’s Element. Mike’s aunt’s car was already absent from the driveway, as she had left early to go run in a 5K. Oh, and did I mention that it was snowing quite heavily? Welcome to New Hampshire!
After a nice warm shower, I peaked into the oven to look at the bird. She looked happy, toasting away in the oven. It was one massive bird, at 22 pounds. I then discovered the newspaper over in the corner by the love seat, so I sat down for a read. Well, it was a read, until I found a Sudoku puzzle. Then I had to find a pen and start puzzling. I solved that and was starting on the crossword before Mike’s dad finally got up. We chatted a bit, read and solved the newspaper, and the family came back together as Mike woke up, his aunt came back from the 5 K, and his mother and sister returned.
Mike’s aunt was coated in melted snow (also known as water), but was still highly upbeat. She had a respectable 32 minute run on packed powder with snow blowing into her face. I don’t understand how someone can be so full of energy!
After a filling breakfast, we started with the cooking for the day. We took turn using the cutting board to chop up squash, apples, potatoes, raw vegetables, cheese, and pepperoni. We caramelized onions for a recipe that Mike’s aunt only knew by name. We laid out shrimp, cheese trays, chips, vegetable trays, and various dips for the football contingent. Eventually the other half of the party, Mike’s aunt’s family, showed up. Much food was eaten while football was watched.
Now that everyone was here, the insanity could begin. Mike’s aunt’s father (they call him Big Luke) is a handful. He’s old, he’s Polish, and he’s a laugh riot. He makes ridiculous demands, while everyone around him just says, “Nope!” He constantly hits on anything with boobs, despite having a girlfriend who treats him very well. She takes it with a high sense of amusement.
By the way, I can make a statement about him being Polish because I am half Polish - my dad’s side. In fact, Big Luke is so much like my Dziadzi was… I can’t explain it. If you have a Polish grandfather, I’m sure you can understand. In other funny news, my dad becomes more like Dziadzi every day…
Soon, the first football game was over, and it was time for turkey. Mike’s uncle carved the turkey under the watchful eye of his wife. Meanwhile, the rest of us took our seats and started passing sides around the table. Big Luke constantly asked if we were ready to say grace and eat. The man was either very hungry or in the mood for religion. In any case, we were finally ready, and he led us in giving thanks for family and food.
We ate and talked and ate and talked and ate and ate and ate. Mike’s aunt’s sister’s dog whimpered quietly while otherwise behaving very well. The food was good, the people were wonderful, and our plates were soon empty of food (or, well, holding various bits of stuff we couldn’t possibly feed ourselves). People quickly disappeared into the living room to continue watching football, while a few of us bagged up enough leftovers to feed a family of four for a week. We joined the football people soon after, and football watching and pie eating continued up until the high point (or low point, depending) of the evening…