Thanks Again

It has been a cozy Thanksgiving holiday. I greeted it with all the delight with which newly regained health invigorates one. One reason I've posted so little this month can be blamed indirectly on the energies I've had to divert to battling a nasty nagging illness that struck me down. I plunged into cooking when I arrived home from work on Wednesday, but found that the quick enthusiasm of my newly regained health was not quite equalled by my only gradually rising energy levels.

Bummer.

Ah well, I satisfied my body by an early bedtime and late arising the following morning.

Thanksgiving itself was a pleasant round of the familiar mixed with a consciousness of another "first Thanksgiving" in another new place of residence.

Mid-morning, Dad, Mom, and I got the turkey in the oven. Mom, mixing the stuffing up, announced with concern that it didn't taste right. Dad, coming to the rescue with his taster available, commented that she "always says that." Her look of shock was a sight to behold, "I DO?!? What do you always answer?" He smiled, "That it always tastes just perfect!"

It did, indeed, turn out perfectly. Possibly the best stuffing that has ever touched my palate.

Everyone was on hand when it came time to mash the potatoes. For some reason, it is the most popular job available. Theories to explain this phenomenon will be entertained.

We used the fine china for the first time in several years. The last two Thanksgivings, as we remembered vividly, it was in storage.

Among our family traditions, we debone the entire turkey on Thanksgiving day before we consider ourselves done with cleanup. For the last several years, deboning has been my department. This year, Peter helped me. Slowly picking through the the carcase of the turkey, I caught Peter looking longingly out the window. I quickly divided out two healthy piles of meat. "This one's yours," I informed him, "and this one's mine. We'll race."

Several productive minutes later, Peter suddenly said reflectively, "Katie, I've been working a lot faster since we started racing." *pause* then, accusingly, "Katie! Did you KNOW I would do that?"

What can I say? It's not for nothing that I'm the oldest.

Several hours after dinner, we regathered around the table to enjoy pumpkin CHIFFON pie. About 300x better than average pumpkin pie, we serve the lightest, fluffiest pumpkin pie you've ever eaten. As usual, we discussed and unanimously agreed on this very point. John took the cake this year by declaring, "Saying pumpkin pie and pumpkin chiffon pie are anything alike is like saying that grapefruit and grapes are alike."

If you find yourself salivating, come on over. We'll have pie around more or less continuously for the next week or two.

Just before shutting down operations for the night, I carefully packed the china away for another time. Mom, watching me, wondered which of her children should inherit her china. John and Abigail answered simultaneously, "ME!" "I love your china," John said. "Ha, but your wife might not," Mom threw after him as he left the room.

"She will," his words drifted back confidently and we ended our day with laughter to share and full of thankfulness for each other....just the way we are.