Thursday, November 24, 2011

Honey Baked Ham Kinda Day

Let me start by saying this is a tongue in cheek kinda story!!!! The hard thing about writing things down and not communicating in person is the inability to share facial expression and voice levels which would let someone know the other person is trying to be being funny, is happy, sad, mad, glad and so on.  That said I’m trying to be funny in retelling my day.  In the sarcastic way I am sometimes. 

To start with I’m not much of a taker of food to family functions kinda girl.  Taker of drinks, paper products and the such, that is me.  So last week I decided to be a good family member and volunteer to get a Honey Baked Ham for the Hull Thanksgiving Dinner.  I ordered it last Friday for pickup today, the Wednesday before Thanksgiving…










When Chris worked at Sea Ray Boats, a long, long time ago, the company gave employees a Honey Baked Ham for their Christmas bonus.  The ham was always a big treat at Christmas time.  About 15 years ago, yes, 15, I bought a ham for Thanksgiving since Chris didn’t work at Sea Ray any longer.  Everyone missed having the ham. 

That year I ordered the Honey Baked Ham and picked it up the day before Thanksgiving.  Just like today.  This morning I told everyone at work there would be a line, just like years ago, but it wasn’t too bad back then, wouldn’t be too bad today.  This is proof that my mind always remembers an event that is bad.  However, the “badness” of the situation isn’t remembered full force.

Lunch with my friend Patty.  Always a great treat.  This will get my trip to Knoxville started right.  And it did.  Our lunch lasted about two hours full of laughs as usual.  I love Patty. 

On the way to Knoxville I should have had a hint things might not go so well.  The Interstate was locked down with traffic, right where 75 meets 40.  That is okay.  I’m pretty patient. 

I pull into the parking lot of Honey Baked Ham.  There is a police officer directing traffic.  Another hint that things were going to be tough. 

Around the back of the building I begin to get nervous about not finding a parking place plus I saw three more police cars.  Getting back on Kingston Pike because of no parking was not appealing.  It would take another 30 minutes to get turned around and come back.  

At the edge of the end of the building the man in front of me drives up on the curb and parks in the grass.  Okay.  My Cavalier can do that and up I go.   I jump out about as fast as he does and we race around the corner.  I think we both were afraid a police officer was going to see us and make us move.  Plus I think we both thought stupidly that the faster we got to the door the less time we’d wait because we would beat EVERYBODY.  I don’t think we shaved more than a couple of minutes off of our time in line. 

The line was outside the building, about 20 deep.  Okay I thought once again.  This isn’t too bad.  At least it’s not raining or 30 degrees.  (I seemed to think “okay” a lot today.)

Once inside the door the real line is in full view.  It was like being in a line at Disneyland, twisting and turning in cheap plastic ropes, never knowing when the end will come and the fun will begin. 

A lady is offering free samples of ham or turkey or something.  I look to see everyone is taking a bite.  I also see the empty plate and napkin in their hands.  Nah, I’ll not take a sample.  No telling how long I’ll wait in line.  It’s bad enough standing.  I don’t won’t to have to hold trash all the way around.  I will be smart about one thing at least today.

The first corner comes into view.  A display holds a great looking bunch of sauces and such you can buy on one side, cakes and pies on the other.  Hmmm, those look yummy I think to myself.  Let me get one to read about while waiting.  As I am putting the bottle back, crash, I knocked one of the glass marinades off the display.  It doesn’t break but it was quite embarrassing.  

About this time I’m hoping Mickey will appear to take the pressure off me, my accident and the whole situation.  He doesn’t.  Someone has killed Mickey in a fit of Honey Baked Ham store rage. 

The next 30 minutes are pretty uneventful.  What could top me destroying a display or Mickey’s death? 

Finally, my ham.  I have my paper reservation ready.  The lady doesn’t look at it, only asks how many people I’d be serving.    I tell her about 20 and she goes and picks my ham.  The lady unwraps the ham in front of me, telling me all about the care of this precious piece of meat and asking if this ham was okay.  I almost told her it didn’t have enough brown sugar coating just to see her expression.  I decided now was not the time for joking.  People were waiting. 

I grab my ham and start walking away.  Wow, this thing is heavy I think.  Then I start hoping this isn’t a bag like Wal-Mart bags.  You know, the kind when stuffed full breaks right when you get to your car.

The lady had sent me toward the door with my ham to pay.  Another Disney line awaits.  Another Disney line which just isn’t going anywhere.  Please let me off the carosale. I want off the carosale! 

At that point I tell the lady behind me we are definitely at Wal-Mart.  Not only is my plastic bag stretching to the point of breaking in my hand but there are only two cashiers.  She laughs and then proceeds to say she is a diabetic and her mouth is getting dry.  The line better hurry she says, maybe “If I pass out they’ll wait on me faster”.  I laughed and told her to hang on we are almost out and that people would probably just step over her to get to the cash register anyway. 

There is a police officer, yes there is a police officer at the cash register, either for security of riot or security of money I do not know.   He says I can lay my ham on the desk while the man in front of me pays.   I pay and I’m done!  Out I go, AND I beat the guy who was parked in front of me.  Pretty good. 

Well not only did I volunteer to bring ham this year but I decide today that I’ll fix some baked beans.  I’m being very ambitious.  I haven’t made baked beans in forever and they are never as good as my sister’s. 

I decide I’ll stop at Wal-Mart in Madisonville for groceries.  Wal-Mart.  After all my evil thoughts at Honey Baked Ham about Wal-Mart , the place would have to have a little revenge.  Pretty busy but not too bad I think as I pull in.  I have to park at the end of the parking lot.  I walk in.  No buggies, anywhere.  So out I go to get a buggy.  Okay, I needed the exercise anyway. 

Shopping time.  I need brown sugar, pork n beans, onion.  Of course I start in another section and end up with a lot more than I came in for before I even hit the grocery part.  After talking to several people I know I go to get the brown sugar.  None, nada, not to be found.  Brown sugar?  Out?  Okay….  I see a friend and her four little boys, who are cute as bugs.  She is looking for sectioned paper plates and there are none.  I tell her and the boys I’m out of luck too.  No brown sugar so I’ll have to stop at Ingles after leaving Wal-Mart. 

On to pork n beans.  None, nada, not to be found.  Pork n beans?  Really?  Out?  How can anyplace be out of pork n beans?  All of a sudden I hear “Marna!”  Keri’s boys have found the brown sugar I need and are bringing it to me.  Keri comes around the corner and said somebody laid it down and the boys grabbed it!  I told them thanks so much and now I couldn’t find pork n beans.  Keri said laughing, “Oh, don’t let them hear that!  They’ll be running all over the store trying to find pork n beans.” 

So I end up with a onion and about 10 other things I hadn’t realized nor really need. I’m usually a very patient person so get in a regular line although tonight I’m eligible for the 20 and under line.  I only have 11 items.  (Eleven.  That number comes up a lot.  In fact every Thursday night when Chris’s favorite show, “The Vampire Diaries” is on.  Thursday is vampire and 11 only pepperonis on my pizza night.)  

My cashier is checking out the people in front of me.  I notice she is bent over the register doing something.  Maybe she dropped something?  Nope, she is Face Booking.  Ugh.  Really?  Face Booking while working at Wal-Mart? 

On to Ingles while holding my breath.  Thankfully very uneventful and I got my pork n beans.  Homeward while listening to Christmas music, uneventful….  Trying to keep Chris out of the ham all night?  This is going to be very hard.

I don’t even like ham…………





Sunday, November 20, 2011

NASCAR




Chris paid me a huge compliment on my


 driving abilities this evening. We don't really

 watch NASCAR but saw a glimpse or two

 today. Chris said "Marna, if you drove in

 NASCAR you'd be the safest car out 

there." (Guess he means I wouldn't win but

 I'd save money on not blowing cars up and

 on fuel.)




Revenge

Revenge, payback, retribution, retaliation, vengeance….Revenge is a new TV show starting Wednesday night.  Chris and I plan to watch.  The show looks pretty interesting, though my believe system doesn’t include Revenge as an option.

Revenge is hurtful.  It’s not an act that heals a past event, an injustice, an injury someone has inflicted upon us.  Although many look at it just that way.  It’s easy to think of Revenge as a justifiable way to end a conflict, to right a wrong.

Revenge is, in many ways, like a figure 8.  Just because we may succeed in paying back the person for how they have hurt us, the situation is not over.  Because through Revenge you have actually hurt someone too, someone other than the person you intend.  Someone who may love your enemy or be linked to them in some profound way.  Should Revenge be a legitimate way to end a conflict the figure 8 would continue.   For the people linked to the person you got even with, whom wronged you, thus has a reason to exert their revenge up on you…..on so on and so on and so on…..

Thoughts of revenge can also lead us into living in bitterness.  Some may feel just thinking of revenge is their revenge.  It’s winning in its on way.  However, plotting revenge whether it is carried out or not consumes lives.  One may take years planning what they would do if they had the nerve to or not to carry out their ideas.  Years which could be lived in a choice of happiness instead of one of bitterness.  Once bitterness has a foothold in someone’s life it’s an emotion that is hard to expel.

“Revenge is a dish best served cold”.  I think everyone has heard this quote at least one point in their lives.  But when confronted with that option and “I’m gonna get you sucka” it’s often a hard fork in the road to choose…..But I think “turning the other cheek” is the choice.  At least for me…….

















Sunday, November 6, 2011

Fortune Tellers

Fortune tellers. They supposedly know fortunes.  They supposedly know futures. When I was a kid I loved getting my palm read at carnivals.  Much to the dismay of my Momma, who only allowed it to happen one time.  Even as a Christian I didn’t put faith in the fortune teller it was fun to hear them and to wonder about the possibilities of their predictions. And of course carnival fortune tellers all have happy endings to their hand readings. Kinda like  fortune cookies at a Chinese.  (Which by the way, have to be positive or who in their right mind would ever eat at a Chinese buffet again, right?)

For the past year my thoughts and questions about my future have been quite different from those of a 4th grader wondering if they would marry their latest crush. After passing the ole Fortune Teller’s house in Alcoa a few weeks back I thought about their lives.  If a fortune teller held real power they nor their loved ones would never know tragedy or at least not much of it. They would be able to see their own and their loved one’s future/fortunes and thus be able to warn to prevent “bad” things from occurring in their life and those they love.  Because, who in their right mind, should they know the future, be able to hold it in?  If I “knew” the man my daughter was going to marry was going to abuse her I would try my best to prevent that union.  If I knew that if my momma didn’t get her mammogram this year that she would die next of advanced breast cancer I would make sure she got that yearly mammogram.  If I knew my niece was going to be pregnant by New Year’s how could I withhold the joy?

What unpleasantness would actually befall someone’s life if the eye in the ball knew it all?  To always know when or what will happen?  Or even to know a ballpark figure that a terrible event would occur.  One would be able to thwart the bad of life. 

What about the good in life?  If one really had power to see the future good to come would be no fun either.  Where is the surprise?  The good in life, the fun, would just become something else that happens.

I’m glad that the eye in the ball doesn’t see it all.  My experiences have at times been tough.  But they are who make me who I am.  They should not be changed.  And the good.  I’m glad I could not see the good to come either.  There are so rare surprises already in life.  The amazement at getting Jason's text "We're pregnant", the excitement of Amber's text "I passed my test", the thrill of Chris's phone call "I won!".  I'm so glad I couldn't or someone else couldn't "see" those things to come.  I’m so glad God doesn’t work through a ball but through a Book.  He knows far better than I on how and when things in my life should unfold.