Saturday had Jake and I had to do a mad dash to the grocery store to pick up Thanksgiving dinner items, because in this town if you wait too long there will be one vital item nobody will have. It's like grocery roulette, only this year it was butter. Not a stick of butter to be had anywhere in town. I caught up on the mounds of laundry (how many clothes can an 11 year old go through?) and tidied up the house.
On Sunday, we had grand plans to go for our usual family hike, but they were thwarted by the heavy rain and the wind that was pounding the house. Jake thought it would be very cool if the power went out, but changed his mind when he realized that would mean no Thanksgiving dinner. Specifically, a pumpkin pie sans whipped cream-which is just so WRONG on so many levels that he couldn't wrap his head around it.
We tired of being in the house and there was nothing on TV, so we got into the car and drove to a little craft fair that was happening in the next town. The thing about living in a small area is that craft fairs typically have the same products and people every time. We've gotten to know them as "The Very Cool Glass Blowing Lady" and the "Pine cone Jewelry Guy", etc. I've never actually bought anything from them but I keep steering Hubs in their direction, hoping that maybe he'll get the hint. He hasn't yet. Maybe I need to be less subtle.
We wandered the aisle with the homemade soaps, the gorgeous jewelry, and the produce. I bought an enormous branch of fresh bay leaves, which are impossible to find here in any store unless they are dried, crumbled, and about 100 years old. Jake struck up a conversation with a herbalist, who told him that she was convinced that in a former life he was an alchemist, which is just weird. Why is it every time we go to some aromatherapy shop or new age-ish place the people are convinced that he was some sort of healer or alchemist in a past life? Once I was asked if he had imaginary friends, because the person believed that they were leftover memories from a past life. Jake didn't have an imaginary friend, but instead an entire family. His wife was Andrea, there was a 5 year old son named Ben, and Jake drove a Dodge truck and worked in a mill in some tiny northern town in BC. You should have seen this woman's face when he told her. Meanwhile I was just trying to politely edge him away, all the while wondering what sort of herbs that woman had been
Have I told you that Jake struck up a deal with the Hubs? If Jake can keep his room clean for a month, Hubs agreed to set up our dinosaur computer in his room. This could be interesting to observe, since Jake's version of clean means you can see the floor, and Hub's is that it is so clean you could eat off of it. Also, we have no extra computer desk so if Hubs were to set the computer up, there's no place to put it unless you balance it on his dresser. It will be interesting to see what happens. We finally laid down the law and made Jake clean his room this weekend, which only took about two hours. It still looks messy.
Once home, I set about making glazed ham, scalloped potatoes, and roasted broccoli while Hubs and Jake puttered about the garage. It was a yummy dinner, but of course all that anyone really cared about was the pumpkin pie. The very pie that I had planned to take a picture of for all you readers to illustrate my pumpkin pie making prowness, but alas, a strange thing happened.
It was all eaten before I got to take a picture.