It is that time of year again! I haven’t written much about my Mother-In-Law lately, but this is a classic. This happened back on Thanksgiving 2004 but it seems like it was just yesterday.
P.S. V…I am sending this one out to you. I know you love it!
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So on Wednesday, my mother-in-law showed up at our house with a large frozen turkey. This was especially strange because we had all decided to go out for sushi (even though I offered to cook a traditional dinner…anything to avoid having to cook Chinese style food for MIL).
After a cup or two of sake, MIL told us that she believed that the turkey she gave us was a miracle.
Of course, we had to ask how a turkey could be a miracle and this is what she told us:
At the grocery store, they give you a free turkey for being a good customer. Everyday for four days, I went to the grocery store to get my free turkey. The first three days, the turkeys were no good. Too big, too small, just not right. But yesterday, when I went to the grocery store, my luck changed. When I got to the big turkey freezer, there was a woman putting a big turkey in her cart. She was telling her husband how lucky they were to get this turkey. Then, the butcher clerk saw what she had and also said she was very lucky. I looked in her cart to see what kind of special turkey she had, so I could get this same kind of special turkey.
When I looked in the turkey freezer, I saw that there was just one turkey like that one left and I grabbed it. I looked at the turkey to see why it is so good and I see that it is a very expensive turkey. This turkey should cost THIRTY-EIGHT DOLLARS. Can you believe it? A turkey that cost $38 and I was getting it for FREE because of my grocery card. Very lucky.
Then I looked closer at the turkey. I see it is a KOSHER turkey. I went every day for three days and there were no Kosher turkeys before. I knew then that it was a miracle, just for me. I know that Jesus sent me this turkey and it is not just luck.
At this point, she seemed to think that was the end of the story. The rest of us did not. A incredulously asked her why Jesus would possibly send her a Kosher turkey.
Oh, it is because of Amah—that’s my mother. she said.
When I was a little girl, Amah killed many geese for us to eat. When Amah was going to kill a goose, first she hit it on the top of the head like this. She demonstrated by knocking her fist on her head. She hit it with the handle of the knife, right on its head. Then she mumbled some words. Then she slit its throat. Amah, I asked her, why do you say those words? Because she was a Buddhist, Amah said that she was saying a prayer for the goose when she had to kill it. She asked a blessing for her family.
When I saw that the turkey was Kosher, I know when it is killed, the Rabbi says a prayer. Just like when Amah killed a goose!
So then I know that Amah is in heaven and she told Jesus to send me the Kosher turkey so I will know it is from Amah and she is watching us. It is a miracle that I got this Kosher turkey.
Besides, it is worth THIRTY-EIGHT DOLLARS and I got it for FREE! That is a miracle too!
Happy Thanksgiving EVERYONE!
Today, we went out to brunch with my extended family. Mr. A and I ended up sitting next to my sister’s huband (BIL) who happens to be a cop. I don’t know how it came up, but he told us in his spare time at work, he and several friends plan what they would do in case of Zombie Apocalypse or full societal collapse.
I thought he was joking, but he had an actual, logical sounding plan. I started pondering my own plan which largely involved begging my BIL to take us with him to the 100 acre compound he and his coworker have planned. We also discussed what skills and qualities will be needed.
Due to my recent semi-success at squirrel killing (don’t ask), my sturdy build (good for long periods of low food) and my moderate workable knowledge of some basic survival skills (mostly gleaned from reading the Hunger Games and Little House on the Prairie), I had a decent chance of being admitted to the compound. I also have a strong will to survive and would gladly resort to cannibalism if necessary, so my odds of making it through the first waves of casualties are fairly decent.
Poor Mr. A, though, had very little useful abilities to offer at the survival stage. The only thing we could think of in his Post-Apocalypse pro column was the fact that his sister is a doctor. If he brings her, there is a chance he could get in. His only other life skill is an ability to bike very long distances which might possibly be helpful for foraging (though no one was impressed with this skill). Mr. A does have a good amount of muscle if I need to eat a person, so maybe I would keep him around.
My BIL and I decided that my sister had very little to offer also. She is pretty skinny (bad news in food shortage times!), can’t cook or garden and has a pretty poor ability to control her temper when she is stressed. We figured she would implode and get expelled pretty quickly. My sister argued that she would be happy to hook her way around the compound to keep the men happy and earn her keep, which amused everyone except her husband.
I have been making my mental apocalypse plan all day.
More questions:
Several people asked about the stalker aka the Dead Guy’s Girlfriend (see here here and here for the most recent posts regarding that saga).
Since I talked to her pastor, not much has happened. I didn’t get a restraining order because I wanted to see if she was going to back off. I still see her parking in the parking lot near our house when she is at the church on Wednesdays and Sundays, but I haven’t seen her lurking like she was. I haven’t seen her drive creeptastically slowly in front of our house or come into our yard or anything like that. I assume either her pastor or the friend the pastor was going to enlist in helping said something to her.
Basically, she has faded into the woodwork for the time being. I will admit I am suspicious about the fact that my car was keyed recently. I often park in the parking lot where she parks, but I don’t have any proof it was her. I don’t know that is where it was keyed and it could have happened anywhere. The good news is my van is not in mint condition anyway (it is kind of a hooptymobile with a missing hubcap and always filled with crumbs and crumpled papers from the kids), so I don’t really care.
Next Question
JLP asked
Whatever happened with the kid that Mr. A confronted about yelling racist things? The last I remember reading was that Mr. A had forgotten the kid’s contact info in the heat of the moment, and that you were going to try to track him down another way…. Did anything come of that? If so, how did the kid’s parents react to being contacted, and how did that conversation go?
We did get the kid’s contact information but Mr. A totally dropped the ball and did not call his parents. I could hypothesize about reasons why (avoiding confrontation, tired of dealing with that kind of bullshit, etc.) but I don’t really know why he didn’t call. He knows I disapprove of his decision, but at the end of the day, he was there and I wasn’t. (Also, he read the comments on that post and knows he let my blogreaders down. We should force him to apologize to you all for not providing interesting blog fodder. Or maybe we can make him do his own question and answer session as punishment).
Beep asks:
Are there any updates on the in-laws?
Things on the in-law front have been strangely quiet. I don’t think I have seen Mr. A’s mom since we got back from Taiwan. I think subconsciously I don’t want to give her the opportunity to ruin my very pleasant feelings toward her from the trip, so I haven’t instigated any visits. I think Mr. A took the kids up to see her once or twice since we got back, but I am not 100% sure. We will likely see her around christmas, but just thinking about that makes me tired.
My FIL has been just fine. He hasn’t had any major health issues lately (last year he had several surgeries when he was visiting Taiwan), so that is good. We see him every month or so, more often when we aren’t so busy. Mr. A has been crazy busy since school started (working lots of weekends, etc.) so we haven’t seen him so much.
Mr. A’s younger sister (the one who suffers from severe mental illness) has cycled through a pretty bad patch earlier this year. His mom finally got her settled in a group home, which is better for everyone, but pisses her off. She seems to have stabilized in the last few months, but she is still completely unthrilled about the group home. We, on the other hand, think the group home is the best thing since sliced bread.
I am enjoying the calm while we have it. Certainly some kind of extended family drama will be headed our way sooner or later, but for right now, all is well.
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That is all for today, but I wanted to point out the Adoption Bloggers Interview Project is still registering bloggers who want to be interviewed. I participated when I was matched up with an adult adoptee who grew up in an open adoption and it had a huge impact on me. I would love to see a good diverse group of participants!
Also, I did an interview with Heather over at Production Not Reproduction. I answered some questions she had about our newly open International Adoption. You can read part one HERE and part two HERE.
Last night, we went with Mr. A’s dad to the free fellowship dinner at a local church. Normally, I would have tried to weasel my way out of something like this, but we are having the floor replaced in our kitchen and have had no ability to cook. After a week of no stove, I will accept any and all offers of warm, edible food that is not prepared in my living room.
I knew that the fellowship dinner was going to be awesome as soon as we walked in. We were greeted by a rotund old dude wearing a Shriner’s shirt AND Shriner’s socks.
“What is your nationality?” he asked my FIL in that slow halting way of people who assume the listener does not speak English. When he found out my FIL is Taiwanese he said “Ooohhhh, Neeee HOoooooww!” ”Say Say!” and then some other phrase that must have been either Cantonese or some other language he was mistaking for Chinese. Apparently he learned these Chinese phrases from some other (probably longsuffering) Chinese at the senior center.
FIL loves the free Fellowship dinner. He told me he has “been recruiting” other old and disabled people from his subsidized apartment complex to go too. They were quite a motley crew and my FIL seems to fit right in to their collective oddness.
Seeing him interacting with his “friends” was funny. They all call him only by his last name (let’s say it is Chang, even though it isn’t.) ”Oh, Chang told us about this dinner,” they said. ”Chang is always so quiet.” “I have never been formally introduced to Chang, but he always says hello when he walks by.”
When I went to L to the bathroom, I walked smack into the boss of my ill-fated three day job from last summer. The job I quit after three days…by leaving a message on her answering machine. THAT was a bit awkward. Fortunately, she is kind of older and I don’t think she could place where she recognized me from. I think she thought she had seen me before at the fellowship dinner.
My FIL’s favorite part of the fellowship dinner is the fact that they let him take home a styrofoam box of leftovers when it is over. I had to forbid Mr. A from taking some too, because there were many people there who needed leftovers more than us. (This was clearly one of those times where Mr.A was clueless about appropriate behavior due to being raised by non-culturally American and/or somewhat crazy parents).
FIL was outraged that Mr. A didn’t take any leftovers. After we walked home, FIL circled around and got another box of leftovers and brought it to our house.
A couple years ago, we moved Mr.A’s dad (FIL) down to our city. He lives in a tiny subsidized senior apartment a few blocks from our house. He has always been a very quiet and solitary guy. Sometimes he struggles with mental health issues, but he also seems to be very, very quiet too.
Ever since he moved, I have been trying to convince him to sign up for Meals on Wheels. He didn’t want to have the at-home delivery because he said he “doesn’t eat lunch” and he knew he “wouldn’t like that American food anyway.” The local organization which runs a MoW program also has a program where they provide lunches at “dining centers” six days a week, so I tried to get him to try that option.
I first heard of these dining centers back when M attended chinese school (yes, we are dropouts). There is a bus that goes around and picks up seniors and takes them to the dining centers if they cannot drive. Each day, there is an Asian (actually, just Chinese) lunch option, so the bus was called the Chinese Lunch Bus because it mostly picked up older Chinese people and drove them to the specified Chinese restaurant. The Chinese Lunch Bus is kind of infamous among local Chinese families. When parents or grandparents arrive to visit from China, they are often immediately signed up and off they go for lunch each day. (There is also a Somali option, which is awesome because we have a huge Somali community here.)
I tried and tried to convince FIL to go on the Chinese Lunch Bus, but he resisted for years. Finally, when we went on our trip, he agreed to check it out–but he wouldn’t ride the bus, he would drive himself.
By the time we got back from our trip, FIL was a convert to what he calls the Old Man Meal. (Apparently in Chinese this sounds better – lao ren can). He goes six days a week and has the locations memorized. It only costs him $1.25 each day, which does his thrifty Tiawanese heart good.
Since he joined, not only does FIL get a decent meal each day, he has actually made friends and goes on social outings. If you knew my FIL, you would know how huge this is. He has found other old people who also like to wander around the Park of Roses taking grainy or blurry photos of flowers. He has also gone on a carpool convoy to a private fancy garden somewhere outside of town. He has invited some of the neighbors from his apartment complex to join him. There is even a rumor he may also have a girlfriend (!).
Someday, Mr. A and I really want to go to the Old Man Meal just to check it out. FIL reports there is even a growing number of (gasp!) white people who have started going too. Mr. A finds this hilarious because when he asked FIL what the white people call it (Do they call it the old man meal too?) FIL reports they call it the “Chinese Person Meal”.
Not only does FIL enjoy the Old Man Meal, he is now branching out. He discovered a local church serves a free fellowship dinner once a month. He is insisting we join him next month. I wouldn’t be surprised if word spread about this free meal among the Old Man Meal crew and we discover an army of old, cheap Chinese people taking the Episcopalians up on their generosity.
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