"We are more alike, my friends, than we are unalike." ~Maya Angelou

Saturday, December 5, 2015

Thanksgiving Ice Storm

        This past week we had another ice storm.  I was in Okeene with my sister and Dad, so we had several days of quality time together while the roads thawed out.  Mostly we cracked, picked and brushed pecans. This is the first time in many years his trees have produced and we are being careful to get them all taken care of.
    I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of cracking tree limbs. Knowing that sound only too well, I jumped out of bed, threw on my clothes and ran out to move my car from underneath the limbs of the Elm tree.  You can't be too careful. This was not my first rodeo.
   Here we are, busy at work on the nut harvest.

Of course, there were old movies and football to watch, stories to tell, books to read and lots good food.   Ann and I also sat down and tried to sing some of the old folk songs together, with the guitar.  As it turns out, while I was busy singing folk songs, she was in the deep water with classical piano. We hardly knew any of the same songs. Strange. We took advantage of Saturday afternoon to bake all the pies for the Thanksgiving feast that was scheduled to happen on Sunday.  We also had 'Dad and Deb's perfect meal', which is asparagus, salmon and crackers, mayo and lemon juice; featuring some smoked salmon Ann had brought from Seattle. Perfectamundo!  

By Sunday morning all was clear and bright, so Ann and I headed to the city to put her on the plane.  We made a short stop at Savory Spice for some gifts and spices for our own kitchens 'on the way'. 
    When I arrived at Abbey's, the kids were devouring the cheeseball and the feast was almost ready. Here is Audra, instructing MJ on the technique for making perfect mashed potatoes.

There seemed to be some sort of family game going on at the big table. I have no idea.

     That little turkey on the left is E. I hear I had just missed the turkey races. (Turkey hats have become a thing at Thanksgiving. Hilarious.) I realize the picture to the right is fuzzy, but I like it because it shows everyone working together to get things dipped up and on the table at the last minute. I love that part. It's a dance and this particular group of people is getting pretty good at it.

Everyone got stemmed glasses at dinner this year, even the very littlest boys. They thought it was hysterical and we all thought they were super cute. We made a few toasts appropriate to the season and clinked our glasses, like you do.

      There were good times together and lots of delicious food: turkey and traditional dressing, smoked brisket and rye/mushroom dressing, mashed potatoes, homemade rolls, three kinds of pie, molded cranberry jello, green bean casserole. Did I forget anything? We were all stuffed to within an inch of our lives and still, there were leftovers to be sent home with everyone. Yay!
      I look at all these little ones and can't help but remember that when Danny died, Brendan (who is nearly 9) was the age Everett is now. Just a little guy.
I remember B and I sitting on the porch swing then, and him asking me, "Is Grandpa ever coming back?"
No, he isn't. I'm sorry, baby.
       Look at all these beautiful blonde-headed kiddos. I'm sure, if there is any seeing from the next world into this one, that Grandpa is getting a big kick out of watching all their antics.

   Since we have the shop now, and that weekend following Thanksgiving is a big one for retail everything, our family Thanksgivings will be in the city somewhere.  We can do a late, after-new-year's Christmas at the farm once things have settled down.  Abbey has the room now, and the tables, to host larger events.
    Truth be told, I don't mind not being in the middle of everything. I just bring the pies and help wrangle the little kids. Those are my favorite things to do anyway. I am so proud of all my children, the work they do, and how willing they are to be together and share family happenings.  I know it will probably not always be this way, but I wish that it could be.

1 comment:

Nutmegger said...

Love this post! Thanks for driving my Mom back and forth to Okeene and the City. Love you Erica