The remaining months of 2011 were quickly waning and I awoke to greet a very typical mid-autumn morning.  I say typical in that the view outside our door hadn't changed since September; snow was on the ground and more was falling.  Standing there, staring out onto the pure white yet bleak landscape, I couldn't help but wonder what atrocities folks here in our little valley had committed to deny us the pleasant early autumn season others had experienced.

Despite my hardened yet white-coated heart I turned away from the door with glee because only two more days would have to pass before I could begin enjoying my favorite time of the year; Thanksgiving!

Indeed, the kickoff of the Holiday Season was nigh!  The Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, eggnog, football games, cozy naps and the best of the best;  turkey, gravy and stuffing sammiches were in my immediate future.

Then the phone rang.

We have two phone numbers in the house; ours and my mother-in-law's.  It was her phone ringing but she was busy doing things with Her Nagness so I answered it.  But, I observe a policy.  See, it makes no difference to me whose phone I'm answering...I always answer one with the sole intent of confusing the caller and whatever I say is totally off the cuff.

"Good morning.  Did you whip your kids before you sent them off to school today?"

"Hi, this is Sal...err, good morning...wha...kids?  Yeah, they're at school.  This...this is Sally from Dr. Bandau's office, is Ada there?"

"Yeah, but no, she's busy. Can I take a message?"

"Yes, I'm calling to confirm her appointment tomorrow at 1PM, please tell her to bring all of her medications."

"Ok, Roger, WILCO, over 'n out."

On the fridge we have a whiteboard where all community messages are placed and I picked up the marker to write...

"Dr. Bandaid, tomorrow 1300 hrs, bring all medications", then I stood there, looking at what I had just written and added "and a can of soup."  I replaced the marker then scooted off to the shop not saying a word to anyone.

I came home for a late lunch and found Her Nagness sitting at the table.  She paused the TV, looked up at me then glanced at the whiteboard and with a modicum of interest says, "A can of soup?"

"Yeah, I was vague on it as well - figured since it's Thanksgiving they're probably doing a food drive."

"Yeah, it is, isn't it," She said, nodding her head, "That's nice of them."

I, being all innocent like said, "More like, nice of us we're the ones giving the can of soup!"

So, the next day I'm back in the shop.  A few hours earlier the two women have gone to town to meet with the doctor.  The cell phone rings - I look at the display...it's Her Nagness and I know exactly what she's calling about.

"Thank you for calling the Twisted Knot Woodshop, how may I direct your call?"

"You can direct this call to the jerk who sent me to a doctor's office with a can of soup!"

The giggles ensued with me picturing her sitting there in her chair waving a can of soup at the nurse...and it was then I heard the rest of the story and realized how effective my joke had been.  The giggles would soon give birth to raucous laughter.

She pulled the medications out of the bag and gave them to the nurse and then she withdrew the can of soup.

"Ohh, where do you want me to put this can of soup?"

The obviously confused nurse said, "Soup?"

"Yeah, you told us to bring a can of soup...for the food drive?"

The nurse says, "I dunno...lemme go check." so she takes off running through the entire clinic asking the same question to everyone she encounters, "Where is the food drive basket?" and then explains that some gal is at the front desk waving a can of soup like a battle flag.

The nurse comes back dog tired and says, "We don't know anything about it here, let me call across the street to the hospital, maybe it's over there. By the way, who took our message when we called?"

"Why, Joe did.  See, we were busy and he...why that miserable, no good, conniving...never mind, you don't need to call the hospital but when I get home he'll be though."

I'm sure a lot of people have experienced a situation where a good thing happens but it's rare when that good thing just keeps getting better and better.

Now it's mid-January and I walked in the kitchen to witness my mother-in-law digging into what I call "The Pill Trough". I say that because every morning I see her standing in front of it to begin feeding - in my opinion the only substantial and nutritional thing going down her throat is the 1% milk chasing the pills; but I digress.

But this morning was different - she was putting all the medicine bottles into a plastic shopping bag.

So me, being moderately interested, and with my concern of the pill trough having been in the same place lo these many years and the possibility of it being moved to another location, I asked, "Where are you moving the pill trough?"

She shook her head saying, "I'm not moving it, the doctor wants to see them."

Now I'm confused and asked all nice like, "Ain't this the same doctor?  Why does he need to see the same pills again?  Didn't he take notes the last time?"

"I dunno," she said, throwing her hands up in the air and then left the bag sitting on the counter and went upstairs to "get presentable".

So I, being all helpful like, went to the pantry and got a can of soup and nestled it in her bag of medicines and I, being most thoughtful, tied the loops of the bag together.

Presently she comes downstairs, collects the now tied-up bag, heads out the door and climbs into her car for the 60-mile drive south to Missoula to see the same doctor she saw up here back in November.

Dr. Bandau is a traveling doctor - he comes to the clinic here in the Mission Valley once a week.  Up here are an entirely different set of nurses and desk apes so the nurses down there are completely in the dark on what happened up here back in November.

My mother-in-law hands them the bag and they whip around to deliver the bag to her doctor and this is my understanding what happened next.

My MIL is sitting in the waiting room. The doctor gets the bag, unties it and, along with all her medications, finds the can of soup. He calls the nurse back to ask about the can of soup.

The nurse, who didn't open the bag and who is completely unaware says, "I have no idea".

He hands the can of soup to her and tells her to go back and find out.

The nurse gets back to the front desk and calls my MIL to the desk.

"Mrs. McCay," She said, waving it front her, "Dr. Bandau wants to know about this can of soup?"

She stood there looking at the can and said, "Why that rotten sonuvabitch! He did it AGAIN!"

I love the Holiday Season - this was one of those gifts that just kept on giving.