Turkey transfer averted

When I signed off last night, I was still unsure if my oven would open today.

Things looked dire this morning when Joe told me that after he came in last night, he yanked on the handle a couple of times and it fell off. And the oven still refused to open. I couldn't be angry with him because I had pulled on the handle myself, only not as hard.

This morning I talked to Deb about bringing the turkey there. I had it all ready to go, and she was preheating her oven, when Jim came by to perform a last-ditch investigation.

He fiddled with this and that and still, it looked like the oven would not succumb.

"It's frustrating, isn't it?" Joe asked.

Jim wasn't ready to give up, and suddenly, a Thanksgiving miracle happened. The door opened! We all high-fived, and we called the turkey transfer off. Jim said it had something to do with the lock being slightly out of position. Whew.

It was kind of hard to open with the handle missing, but two small end pieces remained to pull on. The fate of the oven, and of the attached broken microwave, is a problem for another day.

I puttered around doing a few things such as fixing the flower arrangements, getting down the serving dishes and getting out my mother's silver serving pieces, with some jobs remaining such as ironing the tablecloth so that Katie could set the table.

I took my time eating a bagel and reading the paper.

Maddie needed to be walked, so I took her out in the early afternoon, not checking the time. We went around the lake twice, talking to people along the way. When I got back home, Ben was at the door. "Do you have any idea what time it is?" he asked. "They're coming in half an hour!"

What? I actually did not have any idea what time it was. I thought it was 2:30, but it was an hour later.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm a moron."

"Do you expect us to disagree with you?" someone asked.

"No, but I figure if I criticize myself first, then nobody else will be able to," I said.

"Actually," Jim said to Joe, "I think she really didn't know what time it was."

If we were married, this situation might have led to a fight. Sometimes being divorced and friendly is so much easier.

Anyway, the kids and Jim finished up while I changed. Deb, Charlotte and their black lab, Mary Margaret, arrived just a couple of minutes before I came down.

The turkey was delicious, as was everything else. We were all in good spirits.

We gave thanks for health, family, friends and of course good food and a warm, safe place to live. Ben gave the "Al Gordon" speech in honor of my father, who loved to say that despite our country's flaws, it is still the best country in the world.

If the oven were a person, it should have given thanks that we did not beat it to pieces before it finally gave in.

How not to get ready for Thanksgiving

Once you get comfortable on the floor, it's hard to get up.

On the day before Thanksgiving, this is what you do:

First, you get up early...and play tennis. Then, you sit down on the floor and play with the dog.

Then you get comfortable.

Eventually you get up. You run a mile with your daughter. You mention that the dog needs her walk now, but there are no takers. So you walk another mile with the dog.

In the meantime, you decide to clean the oven for the first time in you don't know how many years. You follow the self-cleaning instructions: set both dials to clean, set stop time for three hours and move the bar on the oven from unlocked to locked. After about 45 minutes you decide the smell hurts your throat, so you cancel the cycle. You let the oven cool down and unlock the door.

The door refuses to open. You figure that it wanted to wait the whole three-hour cycle, so you wait until three hours has passed and try again. No luck. You ask son (Joe) to try. He pulls hard on the door, to no avail. You set it on a shorter cycle so it can finish, and then you try again. No deal.

Then you do what any smart-thinking mother would do: You take daughter and hightail it out of there, going to Northampton to do errands and get a Starbucks. When you return, son has read about the problem on the internet, where it says to turn the power switch on and off. No luck. You decide to set it again for another three hours so it can complete the whole cycle without feeling cheated and will then hopefully feel generous enough to unlock itself.

This is where things stand now, at 10 p.m. To my credit, I did do all the shopping yesterday, except for forgetting all of my knives at the butcher shop, where they can be sharpened for free. Joe, who came home Sunday, returned and got them today.

Thanksgiving dinner will take place here, oven or no oven. It will be the three kids and me, our friend Deb and her daughter Charlotte, and Jim, my ex-husband.

Deb, who lives down the street, said we could cook the turkey there if need be. We could use the microwave for reheating Deb's stuffing and Jim's sweet potato casserole...if the microwave worked.

If we do have to make a few trips to Deb's and back, it will end up making a good story.

Thanksgiving came quickly. It wasn't too long ago that I mourned my empty nest when Katie went to college. I spent part of last year dreading her departure, only to realize, after the initial shock, that I was fine on my own. And now, suddenly, they're all back.

Ben rolled in tonight. Katie got here yesterday, and, as I said, Joe came on Sunday. Tonight we had pizza and salad in the den. At one point, everyone was talking at once. The dog, oblivious, snored on the couch. I soaked it up.

They each went their separate ways after dinner. In order to continue not getting ready, I am sitting next to the dog writing this. Next I'm going to check for last night's episode of "The Good Wife."

Then I'll gather up my courage to see if the oven opens.

Whether it does or doesn't, it promises to be a blessed day.