I'm sure "bedraggled" is sexy somewhere.

The kids and I had the day off today. We kept busy preparing for Thanksgiving. Harrison helped by building a Lego underwater ship thingy for pretty much the entire day. He surfaced from the basement occasionally to use the bathroom or pick up food I left for him at the top of the stairs. Ella contributed by talking continuously the ENTIRE day. If she stopped to breathe, or rest in any way, her body would continue for her, nonverbally, by wrapping one of its limbs around me or by trying to climb into my lap – even if I was standing.

We all converged for one big Costco and grocery store run. Costco, on this late Wednesday morning, was as crowded as any Saturday afternoon. We were there for our staples, but I felt compelled to buy rolls for tomorrow. How could I pass on THIRTY SIX fresh baked rolls for $3.79. I’ll be happy if we eat 15 of them! The kids were well-behaved even though the sample tables were just in the process of being set up. Usually the samples are the only thing I can use for bribes while we’re there. I was worried about going to the grocery store right afterwards, but they were great. Harry is reading now and can really help me. We got everything we needed but the green beans. “We’re out,” was the comment I received from the produce guy. That means one more trip tomorrow morning with all the other last minute shoppers.

After lunch I made a hand-me-down recipe from my grandmother – Rotkraut (a sweet and sour red cabbage). I normally would have called my mom for the recipe (as I never wrote it down) and was starting to freak out when my dad didn’t have it. These are some of the hardest times for me about my mom’s death. When I can’t talk to her and she has some information that I’m sure no one else has. It’s the most exasperating, frustrating and sad feeling I’ve ever felt. I emailed my cousin to see if she had it and she did. Her mom is my mom’s only sibling and we are quite sure that her recipe is the original. It had all the markings of one of my Oma’s recipes – not too many measurements and incomplete instructions. Anyway I made it and the smells that I created were so familiar it was eerie. For a few moments I felt like I was continuing a legacy – as hokey as that may sound.

Cleaning the mess in the kitchen for the third time today, I then proceeded to bake a cake. We figured out that it was Harrison’s half birthday tomorrow and he never forgot it. “I want a white cake, with white frosting, and NO turkey. I’ll eat bratwurst.” So I succumbed and baked him a white cake with white frosting. And being a German, with a history of Wisconsin residency, I’m sure we can find a brat in the freezer to bring along tomorrow.

Tomorrow we are baking two pies, making “special” green beans with $5.69 worth of pine nuts and cooked carrots. The dinner is being hosted by Chris’ Mormon brother and wife. They are making the turkey and stuffing. His other brother and wife are bringing mashed potatoes, but their son is violently ill with stomach flu so I don’t know if the potatoes will make it. That would be such a bummer as I was already pretty upset about not having wine with dinner and coffee with my pie.

Chris arrived home not a minute too soon tonight. He spent his day in Park City, and apparently the stylish tourists are arriving in droves for the long holiday weekend. “You should have seen them all dressed up at 8 in the morning!” About ten minutes later he commented to me, lovingly I’m sure, “You really look like a bedraggled stay-at-home-mommy tonight.” I flipped him off.