Thanksgiving Day
As I ate my untraditional fish dinner I thought about previous dinners.
One time my turkey sat in its pan in the oven behaving reasonably well-- that is browning and cooking before it caught on fire. The smoke alarm sounded and smoke ascended from the oven door. The turkey was rescued, the windows opened, the alarm disconnected until the air cleared and save for a smoky skin the turkey survived the ordeal.
Over time we've narrowed down the meal. Initially that meant chicken with the fixings, then chicken in a pot cooking away while we went for a walk around my favorite pond. Eventual the chicken gave way to fish--more authentic that way.
We've driven in a snowstorm to get to a Thanksgiving dinner, flown to Colorado, cooked up sweet potato casserole for sixteen, and consumed enough for a week of meals.
When my father was sick, and it didn't seem as if he'd win against the cancer invading his body, my mother had a Thanksgiving dinner the week after Thanksgiving to accommodate his medical appointments.
My mother wasn't a great cook or even a good cook --plain cooking was her forte. She ordered a pre-cooked and cut turkey. By some miraculous and inventive manner the cut pieces all fit together and the turkey appeared whole. I referred to it as a Lego Turkey.
We speared our pieces. My father's favorite vegetables were peas and carrots- so that's what accompanied the turkey. I cooked baked potatoes , another favorite. For dessert we bought an apple pie-- not one of those flat topped pies, but one with mounds of apples. My father loved his pie served with a slice of American Cheese.
********************
As I ate my fish dinner and it's varied accouterments I also thought about the myriad number of blessings in my life.
Love is the first.
One time my turkey sat in its pan in the oven behaving reasonably well-- that is browning and cooking before it caught on fire. The smoke alarm sounded and smoke ascended from the oven door. The turkey was rescued, the windows opened, the alarm disconnected until the air cleared and save for a smoky skin the turkey survived the ordeal.
Over time we've narrowed down the meal. Initially that meant chicken with the fixings, then chicken in a pot cooking away while we went for a walk around my favorite pond. Eventual the chicken gave way to fish--more authentic that way.
We've driven in a snowstorm to get to a Thanksgiving dinner, flown to Colorado, cooked up sweet potato casserole for sixteen, and consumed enough for a week of meals.
When my father was sick, and it didn't seem as if he'd win against the cancer invading his body, my mother had a Thanksgiving dinner the week after Thanksgiving to accommodate his medical appointments.
My mother wasn't a great cook or even a good cook --plain cooking was her forte. She ordered a pre-cooked and cut turkey. By some miraculous and inventive manner the cut pieces all fit together and the turkey appeared whole. I referred to it as a Lego Turkey.
We speared our pieces. My father's favorite vegetables were peas and carrots- so that's what accompanied the turkey. I cooked baked potatoes , another favorite. For dessert we bought an apple pie-- not one of those flat topped pies, but one with mounds of apples. My father loved his pie served with a slice of American Cheese.
********************
As I ate my fish dinner and it's varied accouterments I also thought about the myriad number of blessings in my life.
Love is the first.
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