A Pandemic Thanksgiving

Is there a blessing for a Pandemic Thanksgiving dinner? Absolutely, there is; it's all about perspective. While images of the family gathered around the table, enjoying a wonderful meal, are lovely to envision, they can be myths. Elaine and I rarely agree on food, friends, fuss, dogs, and menu because it's hard when two people are so alike.  

A wonderful Idea

This year is different because of the pandemic and families not getting together. This could be a blessing or a curse, you decide! In past years, you planned for that joyful occasion. You buy groceries for weeks and search for that special turkey. Is it fresh or frozen, and how big will it be? Stuffing inside or not, canned cranberries or fresh berries, rolls or croissants? In my world, I want all of the choices. The days of Norman Rockwell dinners seem to be long gone, but we still try. I LOVE a big Thanksgiving dinner, and I always ask Elaine to make extra so we can enjoy it for days. I never tire of it and hate it when the food is gone.

After heated discussions about who is coming, what food will be served, where everyone will sit, and where the kids' table will be, along with trying to please everyone, it is finally here—today is the day. Getting up at the crack of dawn and baking several perfect pies is in order, but they are only made with homemade flaky crust with buttered Crisco. The turkey is on, and hopefully, it's thawed because you can't defrost an 18-pound turkey in 12 hours—note to yourself!

"How do we fix that?" are the words of the day in various situations every hour. When the cooking starts, all the burners are on, and the oven is set to 400 degrees — it's hot. Someone experiencing hot flashes begins to strip down to their bra and panties. The kitchen just went from a "G" rating to an "R" rating, not only because of the scantily clothed people but also due to the language, smoking, and drinking — and hopefully not to an "X" rating. We are approaching the depths of hell very quickly.

When all the food is prepared, you need to find a place to put it. With all the Doodads (ornamental attachments or decorations) on the table, where does the food go? There are individual Doodad utensils for creamers, salt and pepper shakers, gravy bowls, silverware, plates, and butter dishes, and I know this from personal experience. I love a buffet with one fork; I don't need a knife; I can pick it up and eat it.

Who will be the first to knock over a glass, talk politics, religion, break wind, or watch the crying baby cry? Most of us already know, and hopefully, someone will change the topic to "Is it supposed to rain tomorrow?" 

There is only a little talking after everyone digs in, but toward the end of the meal, belching, flatulence, stretched belts, and thoughts of not wearing tight pants or your girdle are in order. The kids ate only the Jell-O, and there needed to be more homemade dumplings, but they never are. After dinner, the TV goes on, and all the seats on the couches are reclined for comfort, and hopefully, everyone took a stroll outside to "walk their air off" before taking their seat. It's time to go home in everyone's mind, but everyone is polite enough to stay for pie and to dirty every dish, utensil, saucer, glass, and cup in the entire house.

Not Gonna Happen

After being perfectly refined and staying just the right amount of time, it's time to leave. One time, we had the whole family, including all the kids, at the cabin. Several tables were set up for dinner, and afterward, the family's musicians gave a concert that everyone enjoyed. It was a great time for everyone and the best holiday we ever had on the farm. Family, food, and fellowship were the only times everyone was together at the farm. It couldn't have been better; everything was perfect. Walking to the car to go home, Elaine asked one family member who was leaving, "How did you enjoy the food and entertainment?" "We will never come again," and they didn't.

A Better Idea?

When everyone had gone home, and we were sitting and reflecting on the day, I couldn't help but hope everyone would enjoy "MY" leftovers they took home. Many years ago, we took all four of our young kids to a rented cabin; I pulled out a bottle of wine. It's something I rarely did in front of the kids, and my 10-year-old son asked, "Daddy, why are you drinking wine?" My answer was short and to the point: "to take the edge off." While I'm sure he did not understand, he called several years ago and said, "Dad, I understand so well about the wine."  

A pandemic Thanksgiving, you say? It might actually be a good idea in some cases. Happy Thanksgiving! Elaine is cooking a full meal today just for us, complete with homemade pies, and we will enjoy it; she is such a trooper. Ken