I’m amused by the amount and content of the catalogs I get at this time of year.
For example, a catalog that would like to equip my bedroom, and my bathroom, and apparently other rooms beyond that is showcasing a myriad of products to make my Thanksgiving guests feel right at home. Don’t we all have that spare bedroom that just cries to be turned into a guest room, complete with scented candles, colorful bed linens, massive amounts of pillows, luxurious curtains, a clever nightstand, and a footbath? Nothing says welcome like “put your stinky feet into a tub of water and splash about on my new coordinated rug.” It is to chuckle.
A baking catalog fit for royalty urges me to “make a gift of it” by purchasing their accouterments to make the packaging even better than the treat I’m baking. I can buy ribbon for $1/foot that will probably fit around three cookies. I can buy brown paper tags with string for $10 when I can make my own for free out of shopping bags. Or there’s the red and white baker’s twine that can make my slaved-over treats look just like they came from the local bakery, which kind of defeats the purpose of me doing all this home baking for Yuletide.
I can choose to ship out food to those far away from me from a colony that reminds me of cheese. Yes, they sell cheese, too. They boast on the cover of their catalog that there’s over 90 great gifts UNDER $20! I can get Beef Logs (that sounds dreadfully unappetizing); tiny jars of mustards and preserves that don’t look big enough to fit a spoon or knife into; and (here I quote) (look, here come the quote marks) “delectable Bonbons; delicious Cakes; Petits Fours…” (wow, do I know how to use quote marks or what?). Correct me if I’m wrong, please…aren’t bonbons the French word for candy? Why not just say candy? And are petit fours simply tiny cakes? So we’re getting cakes and tiny cakes along with our Logs of Beef? (Nope, no better that way, either.) How long have these edible items been sitting in a warehouse, ready to be packed into those segmented boxes? What hellish preservatives must be used to keep them stable? I think I’ll pass, thanks.
There’s the enticements from the end of the land and the beans, and while I like a lot of their clothes, they apparently don’t like people who are not spending the majority of their time outdoors on various slopes and hills and valleys, ruggedly skiing or skating or chopping wood, because the plus-sized selection is dismal and we’re a plus-sized family around here. The only thing that would fit me is their tote bags, and I have several of them that regularly get stolen by my children. Sorry! I meant borrowed, of course.
I am studiously ignoring the all-in-one catalogs, that promise to deliver in time for the holidays any assortment of “stuff” from ice-picks covered in faux-sheep to chocolate-flavored pretzel treats (and I can’t help thinking that anything labeled as a treat is really meant for the family pet) to canning jars (“Merry Christmas! Now get in the kitchen and preserve me something!) and a flannel nightgown equipped with its own Swiss Army knife. (Makes me wonder what the Swiss Navy does for knives.)
Well, I’m not having a household full of people for Thanksgiving; it will be very small, everyone has a bedroom with their own linens, nobody is jonesing for a footbath or a beef log, just the normal meal with the usual football games playing in the background and lots of satisfied smiles.
And hopefully, a minimum of news coverage of Black Friday crowds. Because that would mean indigestion.