We don't have to eat frozen dinners for Thanksgiving, but the scene calls for it. 2020 is hard for everyone and I am grateful for all we have and all we could have eaten, yet the spunk just went out of me. There are four of us, one on a diet and eating the food from a freezer anyway, Nate, Andy, and I. I am sure they are as disoriented as I am, those who are in Cincinnati, Oregon, Florida, and many other places...but I bet we are the only ones eating Stouffer's Bowl Fulls for the first time ever. It will be a funny story once we are back to normal; whenever that is. It is raining to boot, so that makes a dreary day, this day before Turkey day. I have the food, I just can't make myself fix it.
I think we need something or someone, or some group to blame for this year, but since we are all in the same boat, some in a better boat than others, we simply live on. Last January I went to the beauty parlor for the last time in four months. After that all hell broke loose, some realizing it more than others. We started isolation during January. It must have been instinct or the weather, I don't know why we just did not leave home and then it became too late and we were not supposed to leave home and it just seems like a reset now with January drawing near and nothing getting better.
I miss walking the grocery seeing what is new and interesting and admiring the pristine meat department at Kroger's Graceland. I miss the compact Carfagna's with the narrow aisles and well-stocked shelves and again with an outstanding meat department. I miss the excitement of company--I had three tables for 18 guests dressed and covered for a month getting ready for tomorrow. The menu was set and four soups rest still in the freezer. We could have those tomorrow, but it would make me sad.
My dear sister-in-law is not doing well and that adds another layer of unrest she would have been here for Thanksgiving we so looked forward to that, having not seen her for several months.
Well, this too shall pass.
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