Yesterday afternoon, tired of watching Christmas movies, I spent two hours towards my recent goal of watching all 100 of the American Film Institute’s best movies of all time. I watched The Grapes of Wrath, a historical film released in 1940.

I will admit that my first reaction to the movie was that Henry Fonda was a total hottie. I mean…..

Let’s face it; he had the unshaven look nailed way before the 21st Century millennials. But my second reaction was a realization that it would have sucked to live during the Great Depression. Nevertheless, I feel compelled to admit that I am Kris, and I am morbidly fascinated by the Dust Bowl.

The Grapes of Wrath, of course, is only peripherally related to the Dust Bowl of the early 1930s. In the film — as well as John Steinbeck’s terribly depressing novel — the Joad family leaves their Oklahoma farm that has been destroyed by the dust storms for California to find jobs. I would assume that Steinbeck’s novel was reasonably accurate as it was released in 1939. The film leaves out some of more emotionally disturbing elements featured in the book.

The film ends on a relatively positive note, unlike the book, after which you want to slit your wrists. But what really struck me was how completely unfamiliar most of us are with true poverty. I’m not talking about how we all struggled when we were first married, but the kind of poverty where you literally don’t know where your next meal is coming from.

Almost daily I find myself saying something like, “I can’t believe how expensive bacon is these days.” Or, “It’s so inconvenient to have to wait TWO FULL DAYS for my Amazon delivery in this day and age.” Or maybe, “When you own your home, it’s always something, and when you own two homes, it’s always something times two.” Sound familiar? First World Problems.

You know what’s inconvenient? Having to walk several hours each day just to access drinkable water. Or, having to attend Mass or worship God in secret to avoid getting martyred. Or maybe having to mix flour with mud to have something to feed your kids.

I know we have poverty in this country. But we also have government assistance to buy food and relatively livable minimum wages and school breakfasts and lunches. Sure, there are roadblocks that many people face that I can’t even imagine. But even the very poor in our own country can find a meal most days.

Those people who left their homes and families behind in Oklahoma and Texas and Kansas in the 1930s because they could no longer grow (or sell even if they COULD grow) wheat or corn scarcely had a nickel with which to feed their families. I can’t imagine packing everything you needed to live onto a truck that might or might not make it more than 10 miles to a strange land in search of a job that may or may not exist.

Our ancestors were some tough people.

By the way, the other calamity with which I am fascinated is the Spanish flu epidemic of 1918. But until I watch a movie dealing with it, I will spare all of you my thoughts!

Our lives basically revolve around timers. At least two or three times a day I ask my Apple Watch to set a timer for me. My Christmas trees are on timers. My outdoor holiday lights are on timers. Our porch light, our yard light, and our garage lights…all on timers.

Except that the timer for our garage lights went kaput a few months ago. Somewhere towards the end of summer, in fact. When we went to AZ for those few weeks last month, I just turned on the outdoor garage lights and left them on 24/7.

But as our move to AZ for the winter creeps closer, I began suggesting, moving to nagging, finally peaking at begging Bill to address the problem. So one day last week, he took apart the timer and said, “Yep, we need a new timer.”

He gave it the ol’ college try at fixing it himself, but it cut into his boxing time and he agreed to let me call an electrician. The straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back was that the breaker switch for that outlet was – as Bill called it – loosy goosy.

So I called an electrician and told him we had a breaker switch that was loosy goosy. He sighed, likely thinking why didn’t I become a plumber like my dad suggested. But he also agreed to come take a look THAT VERY AFTERNOON. He was my third try; the others couldn’t come for days.

Bill wasn’t home when the electrician arrived, so it was me who walked him over to our breaker box. He opened it up, looked in, was quiet for a few beats, and then said, “Oh my.” Or something like that.

I won’t go into details, but suffice it to say our house is apparently about ready to blow. Like any minute now. Maybe before you read this blog post.

Or maybe the electrician just needs some moola to pay his Christmas bills. But seriously, dare we take the chance? After all, he did strongly suggest we not make toast and coffee at the same time.

Bill arrived home about then, and we both agreed we weren’t willing to chance an explosion rivaling the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius…..

So this Wednesday, we will be forking out thousands of dollars to pay for a new breaker box and all accompanying accoutrements. At least we don’t have to pay an expediting fee to keep our permits from being held up for months like we would if we lived in Chicago. There’s a bright side to everything.

As I have noted before, when you own your home, there’s always something. And when you are lucky enough to own two homes, there’s always something times two.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go make myself a cup of coffee and a piece of toast. Once in a while, you’ve got to throw caution to the wind.

Kaboom.

An Apple a Day
You might have seen the commercial where the women buy themselves Buicks for Christmas. Well, I haven’t bought a Buick, nor will I, but I did buy myself a Christmas present. I bought an iPad Generation 7. Why? Because the updates being forced upon me by Apple (coming during the night while plugged in to charge up without asking for my consent) were totaling messing up my tablet. It was slow to open, typing was dragging, and some programs would no longer open. So without leaving my house, I Black Friday’d an iPad on sale. I’m happy so far. I have managed to move all the items I regularly use over to the new pad, leaving behind the ones I rarely open up. I even managed to load Facebook without a hitch. I am trying to figure out how to send and receive text messages from non-iPhone users, but have been unsuccessful. If anyone has a hint, let me know! My old iPad will be used for backup, and for use by the grandkids when they’re playing Minecraft.

Two Times Makes It a Trend
I mentioned in yesterday’s post that I had gone downtown on Tuesday to celebrate my birthday. In a most irregular fashion, I actually went downtown again yesterday for lunch with Court. This time I managed to not slip on the ice a single time. I attribute it to better shoes and not running from shady-seeming young women out to steal my cell phone.

Smile For the Camera
Though it was chilly on Thanksgiving, the kids managed to play a bit outside. Following the taking of this photo…..

…..I managed to catch a shot of Cole and Mylee walking the tightrope over the snow…..

The cold doesn’t seem to be bothering them a bit.

The Perfect Pretzel
Jen brought a bag of pretzels to enjoy with a cheese tray she put together last weekend. That doesn’t sound newsworthy, except that these were the best pretzels I’ve ever eaten — Dot’s Pretzels…..

She said she got them at King Soopers, but I couldn’t find them when I looked the other day. She said she has seen them in different locations, all very random. Hey King Soopers! I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you place them in the snack aisle next to Snyder’s pretzels?

Ciao.

I’m pleased to tell you that our Christmas outside lights now cheerfully light up every evening at 4:30 and turn off at midnight. This might not seem as hallelujah-worthy to you as it does to me. I went through two timers that didn’t work before I found one that did. In fact, the day after our snowstorm, (which also happened to be the day I figured out that Timer No. Two didn’t work) I put on my Uggs and made my way through the snowdrifts like Daniel Boone and plugged the lights directly into the outside outlet. My plan was to unplug them the next morning and then plug them in again that evening.

Except that I simply couldn’t face the snowdrifts again. I don’t know how Daniel Boone did it. Perhaps it was the coonskin hat, which I don’t own. As a result, the lights stayed on full time until we could finally get my Yellow Bug over the icy ridges and ruts that were our neighborhood streets, and to a Lowe’s. I waited for a horse-drawn sleigh like I see in every Bing Crosby Christmas movie ever made, but none appeared.

But the real way I can tell that it’s Christmas season is the daily ring of the doorbell indicating a package delivery from Amazon. My definition of shopping small is using my iPad instead of my computer to place my Amazon order. I know I should be more loyal to small businesses given that my parents were small business owners themselves. Haters, don’t hate.

Speaking of my parents, yesterday I began thinking about my parents and the Christmas party they threw for their employees each year. That’s where I learned about Tom and Jerrys and Grasshoppers (the adult beverages, not the cartoon characters or insects).

Our house was small. Very small. And yet every year Mom and Dad would entertain some 25 or 30 folks — mostly employees and their spouses, but a few others as well, including my grandparents. Drinks flowed freely, including the above-mentioned Christmas cocktails. Well, I can’t say that Grasshoppers are limited to Christmas, as my sisters and I have been known to imbibe with my cousin Marilyn while visiting our old stomping grounds in the summer…..

Still, the green color makes it an ideal Christmas cocktail. So perfect, in fact, that I serve them as dessert for our Christmas celebrations.

Anyhoo, despite the fact that Grasshoppers consist primarily of crème de menthe, crème de cacao, and ice cream (making it a delicious dessert drink), my grandmother — who rarely drank any other time of the year — would drink a Grasshopper as her adult beverage of choice at the Christmas party. And since ice cream was involved, there wasn’t a lot of sipping. The drink would disappear fairly quickly, and her cheeks would get pinker and pinker with each sip.

Though I was able to attend very many holiday parties during my many years of employment, I can’t think of a single one I would need to revisit. But I would travel back through time to one of Mom and Dad’s Christmas parties in a heartbeat.

….not just on Thanksgiving, but every day…..

Early last week, the entire McLain/Scates clan went to a place near downtown Denver called Ace Eat Serve, where we ate delicious Asian appetizers and played ping pong. Well, at least some of us played ping pong.

The day before Thanksgiving, Kaiya, Mylee, and Cole visited. We decorated the angel tree in my living room…..

The kids then helped me set up my nativity scene, while we talked about the real meaning of Christmas…..

By then, it was time to collect some of the freshly fallen snow…..

…..and make snow cream by mixing the snow with sweetened condensed milk and a little vanilla, and enjoying the fruits of labor…..

Thanksgiving day was chilly and clear, a perfect day for giving thanks for the gift of family. As usual, the food was stupendous. I provided pies, with help this year from Kaiya…..

Mylee and Micah hit it off for many reasons, not the least of which is that they both have stuffed animals that are their besties…..

It’s only every couple of years that I have the opportunity to be with all of my grandchildren. I took advantage of that gathering with a photo…..

Both Bec and Jen were with us for our Thanksgiving feast, and the next couple of days as well. Spending time with our family and watching our grandkids playing together is why I give thanks.

I’m thankful for my brother and sisters, for my patient and loving husband, for our kids  and all of their kids who have made me a nana. I’m grateful for all of the gifts with which God has graced me on this Thanksgiving Day and on every day of the year.

I will be back on Monday. Have a wonderful holiday.

When I hit the sack Monday night, there were still only snow flurries instead of the heavy snow that was predicted. Perhaps they miscalculated, I thought. Au contraire, my friends. It was still dark when I got up yesterday morning. However, as the ridiculously early morning began turning into a normal early morning, I saw that there was a good six or eight inches of snow on the ground, and it was still snowing.

I was very glad that Bec had chosen to arrive in Denver on Monday instead of Tuesday, as planned. The weather forecasters were absolutely twitterpated about the snowstorm. Except how often can you show photos of black labs with snow on their noses and expect me to keep watching? I shut off the television.

What I did do, however, was scold myself for not being as smart as the neighbors, who had taken their trash bins and recycling bins down to the street the night before when it was only lightly snowing. Because I had to shovel some eight inches off of our sidewalk to be able to roll the bins down to the street. Lesson learned……

Sometime around 9 o’clock a.m., I heard noises in the front yard. I opened the door to this…..

Yes, friends, it was my busy bee grandkids, along with their mom, shoveling our walk and driveway. Many hands make easy work. As for me, I quickly rustled up some hot chocolate. Here is the work crew, minus Alastair, who had already left for home…..

l-r: Dagny, Maggie Faith, Adelaide, Joseph, Jll, and Micah. Helpers, all!

The snow stopped mid-afternoon, and hopefully will stay stopped for a few days. We need to get Jen to Denver, and Heather, Lauren, the boys, and Bec back to their respective homes this weekend.