The bird is thawed. It will go into the oven around 10:00 AM tomorrow. Once upon a time, I remember my mother getting up in the wee hours to get the turkey in the oven by 5:30 or 6:00. That was usually a 25 pound bird in the days when we ate earlier in the day. Our "boid" is only 18 pounds...
I found out this afternoon that my daughter and family will arrive tonight. It will complicate things a bit, but it is a nice complication. My desire to have everything perfect will give in to the bigger desire to have everyone happy. These are memory-making times!
Meg put in a request for Mom's deviled eggs. Just got them finished and in the fridge. Twenty-four deviled eggs SHOULD be enough to fill eight people--yes?
I called my sister last night for her candied sweet potato recipe. 'Tis the one thing I haven't been able to replicate. She is a good cook!
Tomorrow, the rest of the meal will be concocted. Nathan's father is bringing pies. His sister-in-law is bringing a couple of family favorites. I am supplying the basics. Hope we won't have to send out for pizza when we're done...
My mother, who was my best friend and confidante, died suddenly on the day after Thanksgiving in 1986. It was a horrible time in my life, both before and after her passing, and I thought that the holiday would forever be ruined for me. This season marks 20 years without her. Interestingly, I no longer remember those dark days. What I DO remember are the wonderful (and funny) Thanksgiving memories.
Thanksgiving always occurred at my grandparents' farmhouse outside of Streator, IL. Because the meal was such a big deal, Mom didn't want to have to cook more than necessary, so it became a tradition that hors d'oeuvres were put out in the living room around noon. Chips and California onion dip, pickled herring, raw oysters, shrimp and cocktail sauce, crackers and cheese. We grazed. It was enough to make Thanksgiving dinner unnecessary! Along with the appetizers, there were martinis. Mom made a snifter of dry martinis, and the parents and grandparents imbibed. One before dinner would just about wipe out my grandmother. Two would wipe out my grandfather. Three would wipe out the cook--my mother. One year, Mom had had her three (or so), and some of us weren't at all certain that dinner was going to make it to the table! Another year, my grandfather had had his two or three, ate dinner, and went to the living room to nap. When he awoke, he asked when the "boid" would be ready. We informed him that he had already eaten the "boid". He didn't remember it!
For a year or two after Mom died, the rest of us tried to take up the slack. It was never the same, but we still had some good times. At my sister's, we made the wine glasses sing by rubbing moist fingers around the rims and balanced spoons on our noses. We ate too much, drank too much, smoked too much, and generally enjoyed ourselves. The last time I ever was with my brother was at our sister's house in Springfield, IL, for Thanksgiving. He had just acquired a curly-haired cat and was quite smitten with it. That was many years ago. My brother died last New Year's Eve.
My little house isn't ready for the onslaught, but I am happy that the festivities will be here. It gives me a little measure of control. Didn't know I am a control freak, did you?!
Happy Thanksgiving to all of my friends. Christmas is just around the corner!
No comments:
Post a Comment