If you want to see my Thanksgiving decorations, look quick, because by Friday, they'll be packed away for another year. Whether it's the early snow (it's snowing lightly right now!) or the lateness of Thanksgiving (or the pressures of blogging?), I don't think I've ever been quite this wound up to start decorating for Christmas. I cannot wait. Thanksgiving night and the Friday after Thanksgiving are probably my favorite 36-hour period of the year. All that good food, and no cooking. All that pent-up demand for Christmas decorations and music and movies, unleashed at last.
It's been a rule in my family for years that there is No Christmas
until Thanksgiving Is Over, and even if I wanted to violate it, my son,
of all people, would not allow it. He is Mr. Tradition. He is exactly
like my dad, who instituted the No Christmas until Thanksgiving Is Over
Rule. I wish I lived a little closer to my family, but it might be just as well that my son and my dad are 300 miles apart. They have exactly the same quirks, and if they lived any closer, they might create some powerful swirling vortex of obsessive rule-making and frugality and
sports-statistic-keeping from which none of us could ever escape.
But between now and then is Thanksgiving itself, and that's a pretty splendid day, too. Today I'm making stuffing, pumpkin pie, pumpkin cheesecake and creamed onions, and cutting up the potatoes and turnips to get ready for tomorrow. Tomorrow I'll make the turkey and gravy and mashed potatoes and ... well, you get the picture. And how many people are coming to this feast, you ask? Five. The four of us and my wacky mother-in-law. (Wacky is extremely, extremely generous, but it's the holidays, you know?)
Fifteen people could show up at the last minute, and we would have more than enough food. The first year my husband and I cooked Thanksgiving together, one of our friends asked at the last minute if she could bring her friend who had no place to go. He turned out to be the state budget director, a pretty famous guy in political circles. We had plenty of food, but not enough matching dishes, and the guy who daily handled gazillions of dollars in state funds got the only spare dish we had, a meat platter. It was one of the most fun Thanksgivings ever. I hope he's got a place to go this year, because we don't live in the same state any more.
On a couple of fronts, this has been a bit of a stink-o year. However, even in a year in which I've often felt that things could be going a lot better, I have a wonderful husband, two swell kids, a roof over my head, a job, our families, our friends. A lot of those friends are ones that this time last year I didn't know existed - the friends I've met through blogging. To all of you, I wish you the happiest of Thanksgivings if you're here in the states, and the happiest of days if you're not. And I think I've gotten to know some of you well enough that one of you will ask about that recipe book on the middle shelf and ask what the Three Great Products from Corn are.
They're Argo Corn Starch, Mazola Corn Oil and Karo Corn Syrup. Without 'em, it just wouldn't be Thanksgiving.