Giving Thanks, (doggie-style)
I'm awake because of a kicking migraine. It's finally subsiding, but now I have one of my heathens in bed with me with her feet up my butt... so logic dictates I distract myself before I shove her feet someplace else.
Slate posted yet another great article, this time about the virtues of holiday gathering. Thanks, but No ThanksThe debate over "the war on Christmas" spreads to Thanksgiving. Considering the fact that the first pilgrimage was due to mission of greed and need, not mercy... and a massacre took place against natives, I hardly see the Christian "goodness" in the sharing aspect in puritanical thinking! Although, if not for the new land, just think what would have happened to all those poor vagrant children in England plugging and polluting their streets! Three cheers for new land to trash upon!! [Read: Migrant Children]
The hosts with the most kindness and generosity were the savages, not the religious pilgrims. If not for the Indians, those Brits would have starved. (For more about the Thanksgiving tradition, feel free to the formal version: http://encarta.msn.com/encyclopedia_761569242/Thanksgiving_Day.html.)
Seems to me, then, Thanksgiving should be the one day when the hard working stiffs get to spend the day half-naked smoking peace-pipes, and sit like lazy dogs, while the bossy-bastards of their lives slave in the kitchen and whip of a feast to be eaten for three days.
A Newfie-girl can dream, can't she?
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Tanks for the memories (in case I forget...)
Thanksgiving for me revolved around my dad. It was either his mother's house we'd go for dinner, or his cooking we'd eat at home. If we went to my grandmother's house, battles would always ensue; if we stayed home, silence and the sound of chewing surrounded the perfectly assembled feast my father made for us.
I was grateful for the times I had my best-friend's house to escape to for dessert, where there was a cacophony of noise and laughter of brothers and sisters ranking on one another as they and their father sat at the huge table gobbling down oven potatoes Mrs. A spent day and night slaving for her large brood. I loved that small but loud house. Each person was louder than the next, but it was the laughter and the incredible food that held it all together. The wine and sherry didn't hurt, either.
This year my twins are six. The older two are ten and thirteen. Today I will spend the day removing all the piles of laundry from the dining room table, and prepare it for what that table was made for: a family dinner for six.
For Thanksgiving dinner I will be making my dad's turkey, my husband's turnips, Mr's A's oven potatoes, my mother's green bean casserole, my stuffed mushrooms, a Caesar salad, sausage stuffing, yams, and for dessert, I will make my all-time favorite, Grandma's ice-box cake. Hub-man will have his beer; I will have my shiraz, and the kids can toast with milk or juice. Dinner will be ready when it's ready.
If anyone bothers me, I'll tell them to read the following:
Guys: Give thanks to Women!
Women: Give thanks for men!
Reasons why I'm glad to have a dad