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Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! I hope you are reading this in stretchy pants, with a leftover turkey sandwich in hand. If not, please go and remedy that situation.
As I write this (early, bc you KNOWS I am not at a computer on T-day), I can almost smell the scents of turkey and 'tatoes, the warmth of the oven and the sounds of too many people in the kitchen. Ahhh...heaven.
Now, let it be known that I am an extremely tradition-oriented person when it comes to holidays, sometimes to my detriment. I tend to get all out of whack if things don't go just as they have before -- no, we can't change the carrots and parsnips recipe, Mom!!! and don't even think about skipping over my cranberry jello..... I just love that on every Thanksgiving, I wake up knowing that the day holds certain wonderful things - people, activities, and most importantly, foods - that have made up my memories ever since childhood.
So today, like years past, we'll get up and do a little early morning exercise at the "Turkey Trot." My dad will wear a funny hat, we'll visit with friends, and come home hungry and eager to cook.
Dad will start the turkey on the grill while Mom and I work in the kitchen.
Invariably, the family will arrive earlier than expected and crowd into the kitchen, making the whole cooking process close to impossible and incredibly dangerous.
And I'll panic that my biscuits (my major contribution to the feast) are as good as my Nonnie makes them.
When the food is ready, we'll jostle around the table, trying to fit everyone in because no one wants to sit at the kids table. My Poppy will say grace, we'll share what we're thankful for, and then we'll dig in. And eat and eat and eat.
We'll spend the afternoon playing games and working up an appetite for dessert (pumpkin pie and persimmon pudding...mmm!) My grandparents will leave early, for whatever reason older folks always do. Then we'll all settle down to watch a family movie (my vote is for Crazy Stupid Love) and have a quick turkey sandwich for dinner.
Dad will start the turkey on the grill while Mom and I work in the kitchen.
Invariably, the family will arrive earlier than expected and crowd into the kitchen, making the whole cooking process close to impossible and incredibly dangerous.
And I'll panic that my biscuits (my major contribution to the feast) are as good as my Nonnie makes them.
When the food is ready, we'll jostle around the table, trying to fit everyone in because no one wants to sit at the kids table. My Poppy will say grace, we'll share what we're thankful for, and then we'll dig in. And eat and eat and eat.
We'll spend the afternoon playing games and working up an appetite for dessert (pumpkin pie and persimmon pudding...mmm!) My grandparents will leave early, for whatever reason older folks always do. Then we'll all settle down to watch a family movie (my vote is for Crazy Stupid Love) and have a quick turkey sandwich for dinner.
All this has occurred, unchanged, for as long as I can remember. And I love it.
But I am allowing one BIG change to the tradition this year. The Boy is coming, and I couldn't be happier :)
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