Keep the Coffee Comimg

Today is a melange of posts from Coffee’s past Thanksgivings. Some posts you might remember, but they are so a part of my Thanksgiving memories they need to be here. I remember and miss dearly my mother and father. These memories keep them close.

Happy Thanksgiving!

I wish you all a day filled with family and good friends. As you sit around the table enjoying a good meal and each other, think of all your gifts and blessings and give thanks.

I remember the smell of the kitchen while the turkey cooked. I remember being shocked when I was a kid to find out the stuffing was not in the turkey’s head. The kitchen windows were steamed from the heat of the oven, and my mother would open the back door to cool the kitchen. All four stove burners had pots filled with vegetables. I especially remember one pot because I think my mother had it forever. The pot had a dent and a black spot on the side which never disappeared. It usually held the potatoes. 

We watched the Macy’s parade while still in our pajamas. We noshed while we watched. I remember tangerines, M&M’s and mixed nuts in the shell served in a special bowl. The nutcracker was thick silver colored metal and looked a bit like scissors in having two sides. I always thought the walnuts were the hardest to crack. I liked the Brazil nuts but not the almonds. I’m still not a fan of almonds.

Befitting the occasion, we sat in the dining room. The table always looked lovely covered in a holiday tablecloth and set with special dishes. I can see my father at the head of the table. He loved gravy and mashed potatoes. He loved the canned cranberry sauce. He loved asparagus right out of the can. My favorites were creamed onions and a special squash dish, a recipe from my aunt. The table groaned with dishes. Passing those filled dishes around the table took some maneuvering with the table so tightly packed with food.

My father ate quickly so he could get back to his football games. The rest of us sat at the table to finish eating. Soon enough, the table emptied, and my mother and I tag-teamed for the cleanup. I cleared the table, and she loaded the dishwasher, and we both cleaned the kitchen. After everything was cleared, we brought out the pies. The always pies were apple and lemon meringue. Sometimes they’d be blueberry, pumpkin or sweet potato. My father went right for a huge slice of apple pie with cheddar. I had lemon meringue.

I am grateful today for so many things. I love my family and my friends who have become family. I hold my Coffee family close. We have never met but that’s no never mind. You don’t need to be related or even have met to be family. I am so thankful for the life I have been lucky enough to live. Today I’ll miss family and friends. It will be a quiet Thanksgiving. I’ll wear my turkey earrings, and I may even get dressed.

Today is in the low 40’s. There was a crispness in the air when I let the dogs out to the yard. Last night got cold. The sun and the clouds are sharing the sky for now, but rain is predicted for tomorrow so the sun will disappear behind the grey clouds. There is a wind advisory, but nothing is moving.

I officially recognized the change in seasons yesterday. I packed summer away and brought out my fall and winter clothes. I seem to be heavily into flannel.

My father was always a football fan. He and my grandfather used to go to the Thanksgiving Day football game in town although none of us ever attended the local high school, including my parents. It was tradition.

We stayed home on Thanksgiving. My father watched football. My mother worked in the kitchen. Dinner was usually around two. Our kitchen, when I was young, was small. The six of us couldn’t all fit around the table at the same time. I think that was when my mother first started standing and eating at the counter.

When we had a house of our own, we always ate in the dining room. The table was festive. We all could fit around the table.

Thanksgiving dinner seldom varied from year to year. We knew we’d eat turkey, stuffing, canned cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, gravy, peas and maybe corn, kernel corn. My father got asparagus, from the can. It always looked wilted and bent over in the middle. He always ate the turkey leg. I can still see him in the mind’s eye munching on that leg.

After dinner my father would take his piece of pie into the living room where he could watch the football game. He was a loud fan. He’d yell at the TV and complain about a play or a misplay. He was a Giants fan.

I always loved supper on Thanksgiving night. My mother made open turkey sandwiches awash with gravy. I’d add stuffing and cranberry sauce to my plate. That would be our first of many meals of leftover Thanksgiving dinner.