To us, family means putting your arms around each other and being there.— Barbara Bush
- No Category Yet
- Note to Self
- Summer School
- The Interwebs
Fiction. The story of a gal that takes Thanksgiving way too seriously.
Thanksgiving is usually one of my favorite holidays of the year. Yeah, I love giving thanks for everything that I have and spending time with my family, but the real reason is the food. I really can’t deny my love for Thanksgiving food and my mother makes it just the way I like it.
About a month before the big day, she’d ask me to help her plan out the menu. Each year I sat at my computer and typed up the same dishes. Turkey, glazed ham, barbecued ribs, collard greens, stuffing, homemade mac and cheese, sweet potatoes, deviled eggs, cranberry sauce from scratch, cornbread, raspberry soda, pumpkin pie and banana pudding. And each year I would print out that menu and proudly stick it on the front of the fridge for her to see. She’d smile and say, “Nothing different this year, huh?”
“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,” I’d say.
This year seemed to be different. My mother hadn’t asked me to make the menu, and Thanksgiving was creeping up on us. She was lying on the couch relaxing one afternoon and I decided this was my chance to find out what was really going on.
“Hey ma,” I said, leaning up against the wall. “So, are you ready for me to make the Thanksgiving menu?”
“Oh,” she said, sitting up a little. “About that….”
Before she could even get it out, I imagined all the awful things that could fall from her mouth. Maybe she didn’t want my input this year. Could she be tired of my favorite dishes? Maybe she wanted to have chicken instead of turkey. What if we didn’t have money for all that food? Was the oven broken? Worst of all, maybe Uncle Sam had canceled Thanksgiving altogether!
“We are going to Sara’s potluck Thanksgiving this year. Thought we’d try something new. Just this once.”
Did she say POTLUCK? Potluck? Wasn’t potluck German for “you’ll be lucky if you don’t die?” Wasn’t a potluck the meal where various people bring various dishes? People I may or may not know? Food I may or may not like? No glazed ham? No sweet cornbread or homemade mac & cheese? I felt like I was suffocating.
“Don’t worry. It’ll be exciting!” she said, coming to put her arm around me.
She knew the seriousness of it all. Her arm was not comforting, but it did keep me from passing out on the floor.
After I got past my initial drama-filled moment of realizing I would be eating something different for Thanksgiving, I decided to try and embrace the idea. Maybe I’d find a new dish to add to our menu next year. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. I knew I was lying to myself. I was a dirty rotten liar.
On Thanksgiving morning, there wasn’t the usual excitement that I felt. There were no smells coming from my kitchen. I didn’t hear my mother clanging pots and pans around. Instead she had made deviled eggs the night before, and those sat wrapped in the refrigerator. Cold and sad.
“At least I’ll have one food I can trust today,” I sighed.
At my aunt Sara’s house, there were a lot of people, but the only thing I cared about, was what was in their dishes. Uncle John said, “Hi” and tried to wave me over. My cousin Crystal tried to kiss my cheek. Some random guy tried to tell me how much I’d grown since the last time he’d seen me. I brushed past them all to stand in front of THE TABLE. It was covered in many different dishes. Some red. Some white. Yellow dishes with flowers. Blue bowls with lids. Tin pans that would be tossed when the day was over. The smell was overpowering, and I couldn’t pinpoint any one scent that I recognized. I turned up my nose when I saw the turkey sitting on one end of the table. It was already sliced. No handsome bird to take a picture of. What kind of sick event was this? My little cousin, Mike came up behind me, “This is gonna be the best Thanksgiving everrrrr!” he grinned. Children. They are so naive.
When it was time to eat, I managed to grab a paper plate and lined up at the back of the food line. We were getting our food buffet-style. The line moved slowly as people picked over the dishes deciding what they wanted to pile onto their plates. I shifted my weight to my other foot and wondered if Sara had any cereal. At last I stood in front of the table. Luckily, there weren’t many people left behind me, so I could take a little time deciding if there was anything worthy of a place on my plate. I skipped the turkey. There was no ham. The cranberry sauce looked as if it had come from a can.
“Let me help you.”
It was mom. She grabbed the plate from my hand and started scooping spoonfuls of food onto my plate. Ugh! She really didn’t love me, did she? I didn’t have the energy to stop her. When she was done, she grabbed a fork and napkin from the end of the table, smiled, and handed it all back to me.
“Enjoy it,” she said. It sounded like a demand.
I slowly lifted my arms, which seemed to have lead weights attached to them, and took the plate from her hands. I shuffled to my seat without looking down. Since this seemed to be a casual event, there was no group blessing over the food. I glanced around and everyone seemed to be talking and chewing away. I exhaled, closed my eyes, and began my silent grace.
“Dear God, I am thankful that you allowed me to see another day. Even if it’s a sad day. Because what’s a Thanksgiving without all the food that I’m thankful for? I would have really been thankful if I could have just stayed home and had a sandwich. Anyway, I’m thankful for my parents. Even though my mother didn’t cook today. A day she’s been cooking for as long as I can remember. I mean, would another year have killed her? Maybe she’s thankful for that. My dad’s probably just thankful he doesn’t have to help her with the dishes. And I’m sure I shouldn’t have thought any of that. Hm, let’s start over here. Can I start over?”
I opened one eye and looked around. No one was paying me any attention.
“Dear God, I am very thankful for everything that you have blessed me with. I pray that when I open my eyes, there is something on this plate that I can eat without vomiting. Amen!”
Obviously, saying grace was not one of my talents. That was probably the worst blessing to ever come across His answering machine. I’m sure He’s marked BRAT in my spiritual chart.
I opened my eyes and looked down at my plate. I recognized some of the food and decided to be a good sport. My mom would probably make an amazing meal on Christmas to make up for this poor day. That was something to look forward to. I dug my fork into the cranberry sauce. Yup. Straight from the can. Now who made this? I frowned and looked around as if they’d be wearing a “I made the crap cranberry sauce” shirt. My mom’s deviled egg sat in the middle of the plate. Like a little beacon of light. I’d save that for last. Next I tried what looked like bake chicken. Just as I expected. Dry and chewy. I concluded that the people in my family were awful cooks. There was stuffing smushed on the edge of my plate. I like stuffing, so I placed my fork in my mouth and quickly realized I didn’t like THIS stuffing. I gagged. I literally gagged. Stuffing spit out onto my plate. My cousin Crystal looked at me and frowned. I gave her a crooked grin.
“Did she make this?” I thought.
“Food good?” She asked inspecting my plate.
“Oh…yeah. I just…uh…I think some of it went down wrong. I’m a total klutz, you know.” I laughed nervously.
“Try my stuffing.” She said nodding towards my plate.
“Huh?” I said caught off guard. Why me?
“My stuffing. Try it. It’s good.”
“Oh…uh…I’m not really a fan of stuffing…so….”
“No, no, you will love this one. I got the recipe from my boyfriend’s grandmother. She’s an amazing cook. I couldn’t mess up her recipe if I tried. You wouldn’t even be able to guess what’s in it.”
Shoe leather and paint? I thought to myself. “I have no idea,” I said, trying to think of a way out.
“Well, Let’s see. I can’t remember the details off the top of my head, but the main ingredients are veal, pork, bread, goose liver, raisins, cranberries, orange juice….” she kept rambling on.
Did she say goose liver? Shoe leather and paint sounded like an upgrade. I nodded my head as she went on about how long it took her to get it right and how everyone that had tried it loved it right away. I glanced up and saw my mother motioning for me to come over. Oh, God bless her! She does love me!
“Hey Crystal, my mom is calling me. Let me go and see what she wants. I’ll make sure to have some of your yummy stuffing though,” I assured her. I grinned like a goof and tripped over my own feet rushing to where my mom was standing.
“You looked absolutely panicked,” she said. “What was wrong?”
I explained about the poison stuffing, my inability to keep it down and the corner and attack by Crystal. She laughed.
“It can’t be that bad.”
She took a taste and immediately motioned to me for a napkin. She spit the stuffing inside and quickly grabbed her can of soda.
“Wow! That’s the worse dish I’ve ever tried! I think next year, we’ll have our Thanksgiving dinner in the safety of our home.”
I tossed my plate in a trash can as she slipped her arm around me. This time, I didn’t even think of passing out.
Can you write something for this topic? It could be a poem, recipe, short story (fiction or non-fiction). Whatever you’d like! If you do, share a link to it for me to check out.
It’s been so long since I’ve written here, that I don’t remember what my blog was even about. *head scratch*
I’ve had this blog for so long that it’s a mash-up of so many different versions of me. So many emotions, thoughts, and random ideas, so it probably doesn’t matter much.
I guess an update is in order?
- NK is 4. RS is 13. SA is 15. SM is 17. Wow.
- Their grade levels for the upcoming year are kindergarten (although she is currently working her way through this and should be done by November), 8th, 10th and 12th.
- Colleges are on the radar. One in particular.
- Thinking of ways to celebrate graduation.
- I won’t be keeping much homeschool information here since I also have a homeschool site.
- In the process of publishing first children’s book.
- In the process of creating toys to go with the book.
- Spending more time writing.
- Still working for a homeschool company part-time.
I think that’s about it. Haven’t figured out what we’ll be doing for next year’s curricula, but I can share what we’re doing for kindergarten. Now, we only spend about an hour or two working on kindergarten lessons. The rest of the time is really following interests and hands-on play. If she ever gets tired of a lesson, we move on to something else. She turned 4 in March and picks things up very easily and quickly. We didn’t push for early kindergarten at all. She just loves learning and was bored with the pre-school work. We “school” 4 days per week.
DK Workbook (used as a spine)
*Get Ready for the Code, Get Set for the Code, & Go For the Code: She started this series (a, b & c) in preschool. They are a little easy for her, but she wants to finish them. We will go on to Explode the Code as soon as she finishes up.
**Bob Books: We started these, but them on the back-burner for a bit. They are great readers and work well, but for some reason, a few of the characters make her upset. I wanted to pick it up and try again later, but we may not get a chance.
***Keeping a journal: This is very casual. She likes to write words that she knows. Sometimes I will have her draw freely or make up a story with pictures. She can write, draw, scribble, paste pictures, etc. You could use this or just a regular journal/notebook.
****A Beka Social Studies K5: We skip anything dealing with church or school. Mainly use it as a spine. For instance, we used the pages on police and safety to go further into what policemen do. We also used it to talk about calling emergency numbers. How to use the phone. Learning address and phone number.
What can happen in a second?
a blink of an eye
a sneeze from your nose
a snap of your fingers
a tap of some toes
a click of your tongue
a jump in the air
a lightning strike here
a thunder clap there
a stomp of your feet
a very loud yell
a fall down a step
a ring of a bell
a bite of an egg
a button gets pushed
a wave at a friend
a bug can get mushed
a wrinkled forehead
a glass of milk spilled
a smile at a baby
a letter gets sealed
a page will get turned
a car horn will beep
a kitty cat yawns
a man falls asleep
a fat cow will moo
a kid snaps a twig
a rocking chair squeaks
a gal dons a wig
a fly buzzes by
a raindrop will fall
what can happen in a second
anything at all
I’m not sure if you noticed, but I totally switched up the curriculum that we did last year. Wow. Took me forever to get that updated here. I still haven’t updated for the 5th grader. SMH. That’s the big reason for the Ancient History plans being at a standstill. No worries, they are still going up (although slowly).
We are, of course, working right through the summer. We rarely take a full summer off. A few people asked me about summer school, and although I don’t know of any online summer school programs, you might think of checking out Time4Learning for summer work. My children did very well with the program. I always thought it wasn’t enough, but I’m really amazed at how often I ask, “where did you learn that?” and they answer, “Time4Learning.” Go figure. Anyway, it’s good for brushing up over the summer. Filling in the blanks. Making sure the kids are all caught up and fresh for the new school year.
I’m currently (and sporadically) working on a different site to list all the resources I have. It’s a ton. So, look for that by summer’s end. Summer’s end. We just started and I’m already talking about the end. *sigh*
Let’s take it one day at a time. Today is Sunday and we really have no solid plans. Kids will do their own thing and I’ll probably clean house and work. I’m hoping the weather is a little cooler. We tried to hang outside yesterday, but it was just too hot. I really want to catch up on all my reading. I have a TON of Stephen King books to catch up on. Oh, and Joe Hill. But I’m working on staying on top of my priority list, and unfortunately, reading, guitar, and other things I love to do don’t get much attention.