Buenos Turkeys!

Coining a phrase there from my brother...Buenos turkeys! In English, that's, Happy Thanksgiving...just in case you didn't figure that one out!

Oh what a day this Thanksgiving has been! Got up late, got started late on cooking, made even later by the fact that I am TOTALLY addicted to a Facebook game called Farmville! There is nothing like growing your own coffee for fun and profit to make your life worthwhile!

Holidays are so strange. In fact, I'm getting ready now to watch an all-time classic holiday movie called "Home for the Holidays". My brother highly recommends it..I watched it once but it wasn't the holidays. I think maybe it'll come home to me a bit more now. The perfect dysfunctional family...what's the saying? We put the "fun" in "dysfunctional".

This Thanksgiving was a little stranger for me. For one, I had it at my daughter's house. She and her roommate cooked the turkey and the ham and lots of the fixins. Roomie's family brought a lot of other things to make the pitch-in complete. It was good food. So awesome to see my daughter as a grown up. Of course, afterward, she and her roommate painted eyeballs on their eyelids, which is in the picture above. My daughter is the one with the glowing yellow eyes...wow.. But it was really good fun. Kids!

The really strange thing about it is that on my way home, I got to thinking about Thanksgivings through the years. I remember ours when I was a kid. It was a great time of anticipation. Our grandparents would come down from TN and stay with us. Mema always...don't know if Bepa always came. But I remember Mema humming and cooking and bustling around the kitchen. The most wonderful woman .... wish I could be more like she was. I really miss her. But we would sit and eat too much, and then fall asleep in front of the TV with the football game on. Then of course Grandmother would come for a while and make everyone miserable, but after she left, it was usually ok.

I remember one year I spoke up at the table when we bowed our head to say grace, and said something about why did we always say it once a year when we never said it any other time. Never did quite understand that. Oh, I understand saying grace, but back then I didn't understand that just because you only speak in public to the Man Upstairs once a year, doesn't mean you don't talk to Him every single day of your life. I'm sorry, Daddy...I spoke out of turn. I was totally wrong to do that. It was never anything spectacular, but there was definitely love there, in spite of loud-mouthed teenagers like me.

I also found out that I really miss my ex-husband's family. We used to have such a great time on holidays. We would sit around and talk and then eat and then talk some more, and LAUUUUGH...so much.. then we would play games, then eat some more and talk some more, and then we would head home knowing that we had spent time with people who loved us, and people we loved. I remember one year, his sister had it at her house. I was helping wash the dishes and we were talking and laughing, and alllll these dishes kept coming through. Suddenly we realized we were washing tupperware that had had spaghetti in it. We heard hysterical laughing behind us, and turned around to find that they had taken advantage of our talking and had cleaned out the fridge! Good times.

One particularly memorable Thanksgiving, my sister fried a turkey. It didn't get done, got burned, and she finished cooking it in the oven. I can't find the picture, but it looked like we had dog for dinner. It tasted pretty good, though! Good visit. Good times.

One year, my daughter and I boarded a Greyhound and traveled 21 hours to Virginia to visit my brother and his family for Thanksgiving. That was a great trip. I hope to never do the bus thing again, but it was a good visit, good times too.

A few years ago, my sister and my mom came up here for Thanksgiving. My daughter and I cooked the first Thanksgiving dinner I had ever cooked in my life. Everything was really good. I think it might have snowed, too. Yes, again, good times.

And there is my own daughter. So proud of her. Still happy to be around me. But I left early because I know she is on her own now, and I didn't want to wear out my welcome. I was still the last one to leave, but I did help clean up! But I know she loves me, and I know her roommate loves me, and it was a good day. I pray that she will never dread me coming over, and that I may always have the wisdom to stay out of the way while she's cooking, but always help clean up.

Maybe next year I'll bring the Charades.