Thanksgiving at our house in 1997, before OČ
And how did your Thanksgiving go? Ours was OK; can't ask for more than that.
The day could only have been described as a "perfect Stallman" day,
meaning when there was a gathering at Grandma Stallman's house, children were
NEVER allowed in the house. Adults only. We were brought in to be fed, then it
was back outside.I love those kinds of days. Someone said, at one point, that it
was almost 60 degrees. I think so.
Plans for Thanksgiving began falling into place while we were in Las Vegas.
Plans were made for dinner at our house, we could expect somewhere in the
neighborhood of 20 guests coming to town. No problem, we can do
that and the turkeys were standing by.
Then we found out Grandson Jason would be coming down from Rapid for the
weekend. OK, get out another turkey and pie for Jason (he's 15, you see.)
Brother Larry is coming up from Independence, MO...OK, maybe
we can get Jason to share ...
We lost our 20 guests in one fell swoop when their plans got changed on the
other end. Brother Larry hit the jackpot and signed a contract with a new
customer, which would make him having to work Friday, so Jason's turkey and pie
were safe...he wouldn't have to share.
The day begins with "if anybody is hungry, there is food in the freezer,
refrigerator and in the pantry. The cook is busy, feed yourselves".
As Taylor and I were preparing the hard boiled eggs for deviled eggs, she
assured me she knew how to cut an egg. I believed her, why not? To my horror,
she cut the egg WRONG!!! After properly admonishing her and instructing
her in the "right" way to slice an egg, I had to laugh. Who on earth dictated
which way an egg should be sliced? Will it affect the flavor? Will our dinner
guests (reduced to just the family) know how to eat a deviled egg that sits
upright? Will I? I DON'T KNOW! The thoughts racing through my head were enough
to boggle the mind. Is it
time for valium? No, I'll be OK.
"Do you guys need anything to eat? Feed yourselves."
As I'm preparing the sauce for the salad, I scrape the sides of the jar until
I'm afraid it will crack ... gotta get that last drop, Grandma Black said so.
Darn it, there's some stuck on the bottom that I cannot get at. Pour in '/4 cup
of milk and shake, that'll work. Ah, got it! My God, this meal preparation is
harder than I remember! What next?
It didn't take long. Three peas were stuck in the little ring in the bottom of
the can. That cannot be, get them out of there! It was no easy task, but I got
them without mashing them.
"Jason, what are you looking for? There is all kinds of food, just eat
something."
As I'm thinking about all of the little problems I'm having getting this dinner
together, I'm reminded of the therapy I went though over the last inch of
ketchup one can never get out of the bottle. It looks like 'just enough for
whatever
purpose," so we save it. (It's that word save that controls my life!) Then, the
next time we need some, that one inch of ketchup will only cover the inside of
the bottle, by the time it gets to the neck, it is stretched too thin to allow
any to come out. All the shaking in the world will not get any ketchup on your
food ... but wait ... add a little water
and shake. It might taste like tomato juice, but by golly, you got it. That is
the important thing here! Or, you can stack the empty bottle on top of a new one
and let that little inch of ketchup drain down. Been there, done that, too.
Does anyone under 35 years of age even know about these trials and tribulations
most of us were faced with as we came up through the hard times? We rinsed the
last drop of soup out of the can with milk, cleaned mixing bowls with spatulas
... never even left enough in the bowl for a fly. I am somewhat a free woman
these days, at least as far as ketchup goes. I frivolously toss the bottle into
the trash; inch of ketchup be damned. There is more. There is no national
shortage, it will be OK.
"Dinner won't be ready for a couple more hours, you kids must be hungry. You'd
better eat something, yada, yada, yada"
Since I'm a 'clean as I go' kind of person, I'm kind of keeping up with every
thing in the kitchen ..."Jason, where does you jacket go? Too bad we don't have
two coat closets." "Michael, pick your jacket up off the kitchen floor."
"No Taylor, we don't need anymore chairs in the kitchen. Take it back to the
table. Are you hungry Sweetie? You should eat something. " OK, no one is
hungry? This talk about food is making me hungry! A frozen waffle is sounding
pretty darned good.
It's beginning to feel like Thanksgiving, I'm sure I can start to smell the
turkey roasting and the football game is underway. All the "when I shot my deer"
stories have been told, but wait, someone's at the door. Yea! Someone else to
compare deer hunting stories with.
Yes, it was a good day. We made it through dinner even though no one could guess what the black sweet potatoes were.
So now, Santa and the reindeer are up and lighted and it's off to Christmas. I KNOW time didn't go this fast 100 years ago.
Dinner was very good, but Jason and I agreed we should have left the waffles alone and I see his jacket is now on the bathroom floor. Yes, I do run a tight ship!