We actually ate Thanksgiving dinner on Thanksgiving Day, a rarity for us. For years we ate on Friday, simply because it worked out better that way with all of the traveling. But since the folks with the largest distance to go were already here, we figured, "Why not?" Such radicals we are. Grandma and Grandpa came down, bearing Uncle Randall, Aunt Amy and Cousins Keegan and Brody, and we filled up the house with food, more food, and still more food:
Turkey - 25 pounds of it.
Cranberry sauce - two kinds: the whole berry kind, which has a nicer flavor, and the jellied kind, since it's not Thanksgiving unless you can count the rings on the jiggling tube of jelly.
Rice. Mashed potatoes. Sweet potatoes. Bread. Stuffing. Because you can't have too much starch, Atkins be damned.
The green bean, mushroom soup and fried onion casserole that no American holiday meal can be without by statute dating back at least to the Eisenhower administration.
Roasted beets with feta cheese, just to keep the green beans on their toes.
Aunt Linda's pineapple dish, which goes with everything.
More wine than we could drink, and not nearly enough of it.
Two pumpkin pies, one apple pie, and the remains of a ricotta pie.
Lots of good food, a warm house, and family to share it all with. Life is good.
We ate. We watched the Lions lose (another Thanksgiving tradition - we're not entirely sure what would happen if they won; probably something apocalyptic. The Eagles won the night game, though). The girls and cousins played their games. The adults talked, as adults will (great googly moogly but adults talk All. The. Time. I never understood it as a child, and certainly neither Tabitha nor Lauren understand it now, but they will - yes, children, you will).
Lauren and Brody play at the concession stand,
though what concessions they had to make were not clear.
though what concessions they had to make were not clear.
It is a grand holiday that forces you to sit down and remember why your life is actually pretty good. I am not an optimist by nature, which helps when I'm watching the Eagles, Flyers or Phillies play their respective sports, but which can often make me miss things that I should see in the larger world around me. Thanksgiving exists to remind me that the good things are there - family, friends, food, shelter, on and on and on.
Next time, though, we'll remember to save the wishbone before getting rid of the turkey carcass. Because no matter how good life is, there is always room for wishes.
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