Happy Thanksgiving one and all!

One of the great holidays!

Began the same each year. Noise waking me at 5 am. Coming from the kitchen. My wife preparing a 20 pound plus turkey for the oven. I did the husband’s thing. Turned over and went back to sleep.

The kids spent the morning watching Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. The smells permeating the house on the rise. Great food cooking.

Always 20-30 for dinner. Dinner generally at 5. Partying began at 3 with cocktails. The house filling. My parents, children, grandchildren and friends who would drop in for a drink and a Happy Thanksgiving greeting.

The dinner always outstanding! Turkey, of course. Stuffing, different kinds of potatoes, stuffed artichokes and other vegetables. Pumpkin and other pies for desert. Bottles of wine devoured during dinner. Chef wife outdid herself each year.

The men leaving the table soon after dinner to watch football games. Actually to sit in a comfortable chair and fall asleep from the heavy turkey meal.

At some  point early in adulthood, Lisa had watched a TV show indicating how to carve a turkey. There is an art involved. Lisa became the turkey cutter for years. The artist.

Our dining room was good sized. The table held 12 comfortably. Yet the number to be seated always exceeded 20. Reaching 30 and plus on occasion. A pecking order had been established early on for seating. It was based on seniority. Seniority determined by age. The elders got the dining room table. The next group the kitchen table which held ten. The remainders card tables which were set up in the center hall.

It took years to graduate to the dining room table itself. Daughter Lori was 24 when she made it. No one minded. It was a tradition.

As the elders got sleepy, etc. and left the main table, the younger family members moved to it. Generally at desert time. So it went.

Excess turkey and drink got to me early. Often I was in bed sound asleep by 9 while most others were still enjoying the holiday downstairs.

The remnants of the turkey made for good turkey sandwiches the next day. I enjoyed the cold stuffings and artichokes. So did our children and grandchildren. They popped in during the next day to glutton on the leftovers.

A nice day.

I especially enjoyed the conversations at the dinner table. Three and four generations involved. Stories about events which occurred while growing up shared. Some denied by the “culprits.” My mother was not one to deny sparing the rod and spoiling the child. However whenever I recalled that phase of my upbringing, my mother would deny it. Always an amusing situation to all seated at the table, even though they had heard it over and over for many years.

My mother and I had a special bond. A painting of her hangs before me as I write this blog. We still speak every day.

Enjoy your holiday!