Showing posts with label gramma julie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gramma julie. Show all posts

Thanksgiving '09, a story. (A bit late)


Thanksgiving 2009, a story.

That's my Gramma Julie, mother to my father, and known crazy lady. Back in the middle of November, at a ham and turkey raffle, she asked what I was doing for Thanksgiving, laying down the hint that she had absolutely nothing to do, should I care to invite her to wherever I was going. I told her that I'd probably do the same thing I'd done the last two years: drive around town with Dad for twenty minutes while he claims he knows the Chinese buffet was open, and then end up going to Perkins, because it's the only place that's open.

She replied with, "Oh, well, Jo Ellen and I usually do something, but I don't know if we're going to this year."


I smiled, freshened her beer, and went about selling raffle tickets at fifty cents a pop.

Fast forward a few days, I'm ringing the bell for the Salvation army with my aunt Jo Ellen, and we're talking about the upcoming holiday. She's not planning on doing anything either, not even going out with her mother. She was going to go to the auction, eat turkey there, then come home and rest.

Idea!

"We should have a Thanksgiving dinner, because Lord knows I'm sick of Perkins' shitty turkey substitute," I told her.

She thought, "Joe and them used to come over for dinner, but it got to be too many of them for my little house. We could do it, if we kept it small."


I listed off the people in out family that didn't have a Thanksgiving to go to, which amounted to a total of six people, including us. And thus, it was born, Thanksgiving in Eldred, PA. Invitees were called or texted at lunch that day, and by the time we rang the bell again, two days later, we were ready to assign food dishes for people.

Thanksgiving day, Mickey and I picked up Grandma around three thirty, and made the trek over to Eldred. We thought we'd be late, because instead of making the pie and the mashed potatoes the night before, we woke up at noon Thursday and made them (we also did the laundry and cleaned the car). But, luckily, we made it there just in time, four on the dot, and before my Dad and Sally, which meant we weren't really late.

Since aunt Ellen hadn't cooked a turkey in decades, the Turkey was nearly overdone by the time we all got there, so instead of having munchies and sitting around until five, which was the original plan, we set out to setting the table, carving the turkey, reheating the side dishes people brought, and talking to my cousin Kim, who called so she could talk to most the family in one go.



After dinner, and desert, we retired to living room, while Sally cleaned (because that's what she does). Aunt Ellen, Dad, Gramma Julie, and I played Wii bowling, while Mickey watched. It was a close game, except for my father, who was a few strikes behind.



Dad came in last place, which we all kind of figured, and Gramma Julie, Aunt Ellen, and I were all only a pin away from each other. Aunt Ellen placed in third, and guess what.

My 89 year old crazy Grandmother beat me in Wii bowling.
But only by 1 point.

I want to be just as crazy as my gran when I'm 89.



Monday was my Gran's 89th birthday, so last Friday our little birthday club of old ladies (plus myself and a few others) took her to Red Lobster and the Erie County Fairgrounds Casino. We ended up taking two cars up, the little old ladies, plus Jack, in one car, and the rest of us in the other.


Our waitress' (the blonde in the middle) name was Madonna. I don't think anyone but myself caught it when she introduced herself, because when I used her name later in the meal my cousin, Joe, gave me a very odd questioning look. Madonna was great, and she tolerated my gran's crazy very well. She listened to Gran's short version of who everyone was at the table (and who wasn't, but was related to her). She even ate some of the birthday cake my aunt made. But, as a former waitress, I know that waitresses will pretty much eat anything they can get their hands on.


I missed the picture of Gran blowing our her candles, so we tried to get her to pretend to blow them out for the picture. It took about five minutes (and five people) to convey to her what we wanted her to do, but finally she did. And she did it the way my Gran does anything - over the top.


Gramma never, ever, looks at the damned camera when you're taking a picture. I have a ton of great profile pictures of my Grandmother, though. In this picture, from left to right, is the group: Sally, Gramma Julie, Aunt Jo Ellen, Miss Pat, Gloria, Jack, Me, Joe.


Remember I said we took two cars? I should have also mentioned that our car was leading, because I knew how to get to Red Lobster and, from there, the Fairgrounds. Because I said this, noone thought to bring a GPS. I never said I knew how to get home - I get turned around way too easily. Well, if you followed my Twitter, you already know that we took a very, very scenic route from the Fairgrounds to Rt 219. We got so lost that at one stop sign we asked the other car which way we should go and they said to "flip a coin." Finally, we saw an old man in his driveway and we begged him for directions. Made it to the junction for 219 and then missed our on ramp, causing for yet another illegal U-turn to be made by both vehicles. We all agreed - next time we're bringing Grace and Milo.