Christmas Turkey

Growing up in Canada we always had turkey for Christmas, regardless whether Christmas was at our house or at my aunts. To me turkey is synonymous with Christmas and to not eat turkey during this time, well it's just not Christmas to me. Now some families eat roast duck or goose and some eat roast beef but my family has always eaten turkey and of course ham. Ham I can do without but not turkey.



For the first seventeen years in Malaysia I have celebrated Christmas without turkey. When my husband died and the kids and I were unceremoniously kicked out of the company house we were staying in, I started to cook turkey at Christmas time in our new house. In the beginning the cost of a turkey weighing in at almost five kilos was affordable but as the years went by the cost of turkey kept going up until I was paying between $160.00 to $180.00 for a lousy turkey. The last year that I had invited around seventy people over for Christmas, I had had to buy two turkeys as one wasn't enough.That year I had forked out almost RM400.00 just for turkey. There was also the year a shortage of turkeys was being forecast and the price escalated, so this year I was beginning to think that we would not be enjoying turkey for Christmas, after all its not steak we are eating its just turkey.



The reason why I say just turkey is because in Canada turkey is cheap. This August when I was home in Canada my brother in law deep fried a whole turkey for us when we went to his place. My sister informed me that she had bought the turkey on offer for less then a dollar a pound which would make the cost of the turkey less then $10.00 Canadian or around RM30.00.
Turkey in Canada is the center of a meal for Easter and Thanksgiving as well. Everyone enjoys their roast turkey with a good home made stuffing and I have to admit that I make a good kick ass stuffing. Well at least my kids like it. Unfortunately paying almost RM200.00 for a turkey just did not sit well with me.



At first I couldn't find a turkey but this past Sunday I spotted in the newspaper that turkey was on offer in Giant for only RM18.99 per kilo for that day only. Of course I quickly got my hiney over to Giant to buy my turkey. By time I got there there weren't many left and I managed to get a bird weighing in at 4.7 kilos for only RM89.15. I grabbed one. This year for Christmas we will be having our turkey and stuffing and I can't wait. I can see myself now preparing Christmas dinner with a glass of whiskey at my side or a Bailey's Irish Creme, two excellent choices and once again Christmas will be saved.

Christmas is almost here!!

Christmas is coming the goose is getting fat

Please put a penny in the old mans hat

If you haven't got a penny then a half penny will do

If you haven't got a half penny then god bless you

Yes once again the Christmas season is upon us and all I can say is "Bah Humbug"!!! I never used to feel that way, I remember as a child celebrating Christmas with snow all around and the excitement of knowing that Santa would bring us presents. My sisters and I were mercenary little things, we never thought of Christmas as having any other meaning then that, even though we knew that Christmas was the celebration of Christ's birth. No to us Christmas was about all the loot that Santa would bring us. We would wake Christmas morning at 4 am to wake our parents who had only just gone to bed after a night of a little too much Christmas cheer. We of course would get yelled at to get our asses back to bed and not to wake them again until at least 7am. We waited in our rooms in anticipation sneaking out to the kitchen once in a while to check the time. Those three hours sure did pass slowly but at least we where allowed to take our stockings to our room to check out the treasures. So there my sister and I sat on our beds eating candy impatiently waiting for 7am to arrive. No wonder we both had stomach ache every Christmas.

Christmas eve was either spent at our house or at my aunts house. I can remember the year that my father decided to climb on the roof and stomp around so we kids would think that Santa was up there. Big mistake, oh we thought it was Santa, its just that dad was drunk when he climbed up onto the roof and after stomping around for a few minutes he fell off when trying to climb down again. Lucky for him there was a pile of snow to cushion his fall not to mention that his drunken state had left him in a state of jelly. It must be true god takes care of little children and drunks.

The first eleven years of Christmas in Malaysia sucked big time. During this time we had lived with my in laws who didn't celebrate Christmas and didn't really know what it was all about. The myth of Santa was quickly destroyed when my dumb ass youngest brother in law informed my kids that there was no Santa. My kids would still be excited about the loot they would get. They were lucky that I was an early riser. During this time I hardly drank so I was not hung over. We would quickly unwrap our presents, shower and dress, take the family Christmas photo which would be sent to my family and then we would take off to one of the malls in Kuala Lumpur, walk around all day then eat Christmas dinner which was not turkey.

When we finally moved out of the house Christmas was better. We bought a bigger tree to replace the table top tree we had used year after year which had been sent over by my family. After my husband passed and we moved to another house I would buy a turkey and cook it at home and invite my in laws. This was ok until my fat ass sister in law and her fat kids started eating most of the turkey before anyone else had a chance to eat some. Not long afterwards I stopped inviting them over for Christmas. The last Christmas with my husbands family I had had to buy two turkeys to cook which is an expensive endeavor. Other then this little blip on Christmas cheer I enjoyed Christmas.

So this past Sunday we put up our tree to lack of enthusiasm. My eldest now has her own family and lives in her own place. My kids are all grown and one daughter works in Singapore. I put up the tree strung the lights and added a few gold pine cones and just sat looking at it. I didn't feel like finishing it. We went out for dinner came back watched a movie and still the tree stood there undecorated. I finally manage to rally the three who are still at home into decorating the tree.

As we all do our Christmas shopping the phone calls are incessant with questions of "What do you want"? "What size do your wear"? "What colour do you want"? The mystery of Christmas is gone and so is the Christmas spirit. Not to mention that most of us are broke. But I rally around doing my shopping and come Christmas day I'll cook the turkey and all my kids will be home. After talking to my family in Canada and a little Christmas cheer that is Canadian Club Rye Whiskey or Bailey's Irish Cream I'm sure the Christmas spirit will come.

Is it better to age gracefully or have plastic surgery done, or would you have plastic surgery done is some one else paid for it.

Ok lets face it, what woman out there wouldn't want to look like this. While most of us say we prefer to age gracefully we are only kidding ourselves. We say this because we can't afford plastic surgery or we are afraid of the pain. Now I'd like to say that yes I embrace my age and the way I look and would never have any work done but I'd be lying. If some kind soul offered to pay for me to have plastic surgery done I'd take them up on their offer in a flash.

Now its bad enough that when I roll out of bed every morning, and yes I mean roll because I can't jump out of bed anymore like a teenage girl, I must then head to the bathroom and look in the mirror while brushing my teeth and look at those huge eye bags which seem to get bigger and bigger everyday. As my eyesight begins to clear I notice that the skin on my face sags, my pores look bigger and good god are those grey hairs in my almost nonexistent eyebrows?? Damn!! I shudder. As I drag my weary ass down stairs to start the morning chores and I mean drag because the pain in my back and legs will not permit me to move any faster. Once downstairs I boil the kettle, make my coffee, plunk my ass down in my chair and contemplate life as that small amount of movement has worn me out.

Once the chores are done I head on upstairs for a shower where I can see that my butt is sagging, my boobs are sagging, my thighs are sagging and pretty much anything else that can sag is. It's a depressing sight. My hair is fifty percent grey and I have stopped dying it a few years ago because it is a pain to do it. I also notice that I have started to gain weight, I used to weigh in at a hundred and eight to a hundred and ten pounds, but now I notice that my butt is bigger and good lord where did that sagging gut come from? It's just grotesque.

I have used anti-aging skin care to no avail. Miracle in a jar, my aunts fannny! There is no such thing. So if someone were kindly to pay for me to have an overhaul, I'd grab it. I wouldn't have much done, I'd have my eye bags removed which have plagued me since my thirties, I'd have my boobs done and a little face lift. I'd have my gut removed, after five kids it's not a pretty sight. Aging gracefully, not for me if someone paid for my plastic surgery. I'll fight it every step of the way. I'd draw the line at some point though, after all I wouldn't want to look like Mary Tyler Moore when I'm in my seventies, that is a scary sight.

Women: How much progress have we really made

Since the early nineteen hundreds when women started to fight for their rights we seem to have backpeddled to some extent. While there are many women who are in positions of power, are doctors, lawyers, company owners, polititions and so on we are still expected to hold on to that job and then come home and be super mom and sexy wife.

Child rearing duties still fall to the woman, household chores are still our domain and arranging and planning activities, school enrolement and transportation to and from shool is still left up to the woman. So where is dear old dad? Dad comes home from work, complains he's had a bitch or a day then plunks his ass down in front of the television as he bellows "What's for dinner".

While cries of burn the bra went out throughout the west in the sixties we are now back to wearing our bra's especially in the work place so we won't be accused of looking too sexy, unprofessional and provoking office sexual harassment. In the workplace we still have to listen to off color sexual jokes, put up with sexual innuendo and grin and bear it for fear of looking as if we aren't good sports.

Today most women can do the same job as a man, do it just as well or better and yet we are somehow overlooked for promotions, the excuse being that we are not as reliable as a man because of our kids. Lets face it, when a child falls sick it is usually up to the woman to stay home with them because we are the nuturers. If an agreement is made between husband and wife to have one spouse stay home and one goes out as the breadwinner it is usually the wife who stays home mainly because most men can't stand to be home with the kids twenty four seven.

While most women can do anything a man can do there still has not been a women president in the States. We are still seen as sex symbols. Open any fashion magazine and you will see women dressed in skimpy clothes, outrageuos hairstyles, garish makeup and rediculous shoes, most designed by men. Let's face it sex sells. We are made to feel inadequate if we are not thin enough or pretty enough and expected to act dumb. On the flip side men walk around balding and sporting pot bellies and that's ok. In the office if a man yells and screams and pushes his weight around he is considered a go getter, if a women does the same thing she is a bitch. We are still seen as the weaker sex and violence against women is on the rise.

One thing we can't change though is the fact that we give birth to our children, we are nurturers and care givers and it ends there. Anything a man can do we can do and so much more. We are expected to now. While we can hold jobs, vote, start our own businessess, manage our own finances and buy our own house, to some extent we are still oppressed. So as the old cigarette add goes "You've come a long way baby"apparently though not far enough.

What it means to be a man

You can't live with them and you can't live without them! Yes any man reading this blog is probably thinking what the hell does she know what it's like to be a man. Your not that deep guys and it doesn't take much to make you happy. As long as you don't have to have a meaningful conversation with your significant other your cool.

Man, homo erectus in more then ways then one and I sometimes think that they haven't evolved much over the millions of years. While I may not be a man I have lived with men for all of my life. First my father, grandfather and uncle then my husband, father in law and brothers in law and my sons, so I think I have a pretty good handle on what it's like to be a man. Suck it up guys and let it be known that women have a great ability to tolerate.

When you are a man you think it's funny to fart in the car then lock the windows to let the other occupants bask in your special brand of aroma.

You like to play manly games like squashing beer cans on your head, pissing contests to see who can piss the farthest or what about the farting game.

You like to open beer bottles with your teeth because you think your teeth are indestructible.

You like to lift your shirt and show off your huge hairy belly or show of your butt crack when you bend over because wearing pants that cover your belly is too uncomfortable.

Dressing up means putting on your cleanest jeans, collar t-shirt and sneakers.

You still like to play with toys only now your toys are bigger and more expensive then they used to be.

Sitting at the traffic light you like to rev your engine so you can beat the guy beside you to the next traffic light.

You have all the fun of procreation but faint in the delivery room when your wife needs you the most.

You never ask for directions, even though you've been driving around for hours because you insist that you know where the place is.

You wash your hands before peeing but not afterwards because your member is not dirty.

You give your member a name like Goliath, Hulk, Peter or Johnny.

You never put the toilet seat down.

You never look a woman in the eye, your eyes are always at chest level.

You think housework is women's work, even though your wife works as hard as you do and by god you expect her too.

You think you can save money on household repairs by doing it yourself only to make it worse and then have to call in a repair man who charges you double to fix up your mess.

You gag when changing your kids shitty diaper, that's if we can get you to change them in the first place, and then wonder why your kid smells so bad.

You whine and complain when your sick but refuse to see a doctor.

You refuse to buy new underwear or wear new underwear and continue to wear your underwear that are full of holes and attached to the elastic waste band by a few threads because according to you they are still good or they are your lucky underwear. God forbid that your wife should throw them out.

You like to parade around the house in said underwear.

You go to a day spa get naked then stand there full frontal waiting for the female masseuse to walk in and check out her reaction.

You refuse to wear disposable underwear when you go for a massage because they are a) uncomfortable b) unmanly. Oh hell you just like to get naked.

So if that's not enough I have one more for ya, my most favorite one of all. You buy us artificial flowers for our anniversaries, birthday or mothers day because they last longer and are cheaper.