Thanksgiving Memories (Revisited)

"Only one more day and then it will be time to eat.
I didn't take but one bowl of hasty pudding this morning,
so I shall have plenty of room when the nice things come..."

~ Louisa May Alcott, from 'An Old-Fashioned Thanksgiving'

Whenever I'm asked about a favorite holiday, I'm always torn between Thanksgiving and Christmas. I love Christmas ~ and especially all the preparation for months ahead (I love to make homemade gifts or ornaments when I can)... but I love the simplicity of Thanksgiving, and always think of it as a family and friends day. I send some Thanksgiving cards with personal letters to a handful of family and friends, and really enjoy having this time of year to remember all the special times shared in previous years.

Our Thanksgiving these days has usually just been the three of us, but we still set the table with the pretty china, and have a special meal. Our daughter (23) is a vegetarian (and has been for over 10 years), so we always have several side dishes. My husband would be happy with just the turkey and mashed potatoes and gravy :) All three of us love the leftovers for the next few days, and a favorite thing is to make turkey soup.

When we lived in Tucson we always had a house full of people including family, friends, and some more casual acquaintances from our church. I'd do the turkey and one or two things, and everyone would bring a side, appetizer or dessert. I'm glad that our daughter got to experience these special celebrations when she was growing up so she can have wonderful holiday memories, too.

I still think my favorite Thanksgivings, though, were as a child. I was just going to write about it again, but realize I did last year, so I'll just copy it here (after all... it's time to go make the dressing and peel the potatoes). I hope you don't mind the "rerun" :)

~ Joanne

Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays. In some ways, it's my favorite, because it brings back wonderful family memories... and traditions that began in the late 1800s. My great-grandmother was from a large family that was very close. After all the children had married, a tradition of Thanksgiving gatherings still continued for well over 70 years.

Thanksgiving Day was spent at my grandparents' home where several of the generations of cousins and friends gathered ~ and I loved sitting at the special "children's" table since my grandmother always ate there, too. There were stories to tell, news to catch up on, and a lot of wonderful food... much more than we could possibly eat, but everyone's favorites were included. I remember all the men going out for a long walk after dinner "to walk off the heavy meal and all the desserts" (there were always three pies ~ pumpkin, apple and mince), and all the women chatting and laughing in the kitchen as they put leftovers away and washed and dried the dishes. I think this was the scene in many homes back in the 1950s and '60s..

But, the holiday celebration didn't end there. One of my great-grandmother's sisters and her family owned a dairy farm on a mountain in "upstate" New York, and that's where we went for the weekend. Those are some of my best memories ~ sleeping in the feather beds, playing with all my cousins, and being pulled around on a sled in the snow by my cousin's pet goat "Herman". Yes ~ it almost always snowed there that weekend, and anyone who knows me knows that snow is one of my favorite things.

We always arrived late that Friday evening since my father and grandfather had to work that day. On our way up we would stop at a "scenic outlook" for our picnic dinner of turkey sandwiches and chicken bouillon to drink. My grandmother had a regular ritual for preparing all those turkey sandwiches each year and placing them in the crisp waxed paper and folding it a certain way. They always looked like little gift packages, and were prepared and wrapped with love (and she always cut the crust off my sandwich *smile*).

The first thing I'd do when I woke up on Saturday morning was run and look out the window to see if there was snow. Then it would be time to run downstairs, stand over the heater to warm up, and have breakfast. The main thing I remember about the breakfasts was the hot cocoa made with some vanilla in it ~ it always tasted so good and special in the great big mugs. My cousins and I would all go out to play, and when we'd come back in ~ wet and cold from the snow ~ we'd hang our mittens and scarves on a line in the kitchen to dry near the stove. Even though we were cold I was always thirsty, and there was an old well-worn tin measuring cup that was used for quick drinks of water. The water was delicious and icy cold, and the cup kept it that way. Isn't it strange, here it is over forty years later and I can still "taste" that hot cocoa and water!

The weekend always came to an end much too soon for me, and as we'd pull away in the car, we'd look back and see everyone standing on the porch waving goodbye with handkerchiefs and dish towels. We could still see them waving as we drove down the mountain, and it was something to remember until we drove back up that mountain the next Thanksgiving weekend... to spend a short time together once again, making more special memories.