Telling Stories on Alice

Since my mother-in-law passed away this past summer, I've been sharing some of my stories and memories of Alice.  And from what I've told, you might think that Alice was perfect.  Since she wasn't, I thought it was time I told a few mild stories on her, as I've heard them say in the South.

I was shocked my first Thanksgiving meal at her home. There were turkey cold cuts, sliced tomatoes and iceberg lettuce on the table.  There may also have been some sliced bread, plus mayonnaise and mustard for sandwiches, but quite frankly I was so flabbergasted at the spread, I don't remember much else.

But Alice didn't really care about food or eating and she didn't like to cook much.  Looking back on it, I think she figured that at least she was serving the traditional turkey.  To her it didn't matter that it wasn't hot or that we didn't have any of the customary side dishes.

She was also a fierce player of Scrabble. I'll never forget the time I put down a weak word.  I'm sure it was only three letters, but in my defense, it was the only one I could think of and it was a word.  She deemed it not good enough.

I was instructed to turn around my letters so that she could help me create a better word.  It seems that in the rules somewhere, it states that the total combined scores of a "decent" Scrabble game should consist of some amount of points (I don't remember now how many).

However, it was clear that I was not holding up my end of the bargain, and she was bound and determined for us to collectively achieve those points. So I did what any dutiful daughter-in-law would do.  I turned around my letters and she found me a better word.

In retrospect, these stories are more about me and my expectations than they are gentle digs at Alice.  After all, in spite of our differences, she raised the best honey in the world, at least in my humble opinion.