How to Get in Trouble While Minding Your Own Business

I just wrote a nice post about how some men go "dear hunting" when they say they're out "deer hunting," (in other words, they are out cheating on their wives instead of hunting) but I accidentally deleted the thing and don't feel like writing it again. If you want to read the news story, it's here. I especially liked the part where one man had a whole pack of coon dogs but didn't go hunting. On the way home from being up to no good he would pull over to the side of the road and roll in the mud so he'd look like he'd been hunting.

As for me, I'm here minding my own business and I continue to get fall-out from that. As I've already whined, my mother-in-law invited a bunch of relatives down from up North for Thanksgiving. We didn't know these folks were coming and had plans to have a low-key Thanksgiving at home while I worked on my novel and Paul finished (I hope) his renovations for his new office. We were even going out for dinner that day -- not cooking for the three of us. Our lives are already out of balance. Paul sometimes gets home after I'm already asleep.

But my mother-in-law isn't interested in what's going on with us; she's interested in getting me to put on a show, a Martha Stewart Thanksgiving at our house for her to brag about to her friends. Apparently, in her social set (middle school) at the retirement community, there's a big competition going on about what your children and DILs do for you. I don't know who else is keeping score, but she is. 

In fact, she has completely recreated herself. She's an English lady (she's lived in this country over fifty years and never been an English lady before) who has tea in the afternoons. She's never had tea in her American life until she moved to this community. And she's got magazines all about The Manors of England all over her coffee table. Nobody has ever seen her subscribe to these before or have any interest in doing things the English way. In fact, when I met her she was all about Danish Modern. Maybe one day when I'm feeling mean I'll do a whole post about how one can recreate oneself to a higher social status in the retirement community. It's just the same as middle school. Honest. Only with afternoon tea and a few props.

Back to Thanksgiving. I told her that maybe we could do that, but only if Paul's office is finished so that the building supplies that are stored in our den and living room will be out of the house. I didn't say no. I said I didn't know. And she blasted me and said to forget it.

Now it's clear that my hesitation has been conveyed to others and we've offended the relatives from up North, who thought that we would be glad to see them (we always are) and, to use their words, "would jump at the chance to host Thanksgiving."

Yes, but not this year, this month, this time.

When I tried to explain that I have two editors interested in my book and I need to work on that instead of moving building supplies (to where I don't know) and getting ready for company (more company than our dining room will hold, by the way), it was clear that no one understood why I couldn't do that later. That's what happens when you're a writer. People figure that you can always do it later. What they don't understand is that later was a long, long time ago. I need to do this now.

I checked again with Paul to be sure that he, too, wasn't mad at me. He said absolutely not, that "time kills a deal." What if the editors who are interested move on to other publishers, change jobs, leave the industry? Now is the time. Now is my time. And even so, it will be a few months before my manuscript is ready to send.

But the relatives are saying, what's a few days? A week?

It's the possibility of losing my story. My momentum. My confidence. I am one day away from writer's block. I've had writer's block last for years. But now, I'm writing. And that's what I'm called to do and that's what I'm going to do.

And it's not that I'm being inhospitable. I've offered as many relatives as would like to stay in our guest room and other nooks and crannies. I do welcome them and would love to see them. I'd try to get in my writing hours before they're awake. I just haven't agreed to cook a feast and empty the house of all the things that are supposed to go into the building. (And I assume people will know better than to use the toilet and sinks piled up in the middle of the den.)

I also understand that this is a tough time for some of the visitors, who are connected to Wall Street financial companies and other businesses under enormous stress. They are now talking about canceling their visit down here because of the "atmosphere" around Thanksgiving.

They are hurt and offended. I'm afraid this has damaged our relationships! They have always been kind and generous with us and we are overdue in reciprocating. That's one thing that really hurts me about this, but I'm not the one who did the inviting and started the manipulations. We can't really reciprocate when we are snowed under.

If you're going to invite people down and invite them to somebody's house for Thanksgiving, shouldn't you at least talk to the "designated" host and hostess first?

I don't understand how having healthy boundaries and minding my own business could create such a ruckus.

Comments

[Kathy]

Love this!! You go girl. I am with you on the how can a ruckus be created while minding my own business. My ruckus is conjured daily with my own mother, who has always been about ruckusing. She now has age, dementia, and a nutty son working to take ruckus to an all new level. My sweet counselor told me yesterday that she hoped for me to keep her in a box and only get her out for a limited time each day. I could go on, but I want to say to you keep witing the novel and these honest and REAL stories of Real life.

[I Gallop On]

Off the top of my head I want to say this--

Do you all have a Furr's Cafeteria down there? Or a Luby's? I hear they throw a really nice Thanksgiving dinner, and it's like $5.95 All You Can Eat.

;-)

Give your relatives the name of several nice, local hotels and a map to Furr's.

And then hole up and write your novel. And to heck with Martha Stewart.

Seriously --

That must be very hard and frustrating position for a nice person like yourself to be in. But you have some really interesting opportunities in front of you right now, and I suspect that time is of the essence. Let the relatives know that, then tuck them into the nooks and crannies and have everyone roll up their sleeves and cook the feast together and clean it all up together too. Heck, make an assignment list and hand it out. (This is what my mother in law does for big holiday get togethers. You arrive, you get your assignment.)

You can drink tea from styrofoam cups.

Pax. Kimberly

[I Gallop On]

Oops. I just re-read this --

"But the relatives are saying, what's a few days? A week?"

Furrs Cafeteria it is, honey.

K

[Anwyn]

Reading this gets me riled up. I am so sorry you have to deal with this.