Ah yes, the memories, the laughter and the over indulging. I trust you'll indulge me as I share a few memories, in the hope that they'll jog a few favorite ones of your own.
Hallowe'en always creates memories, but since I'm not certain as to what the Statute of Limitations might be, I'll refrain from those of younger days that might require 5th Amendment protection.
My daughter, Samantha, managed to stretch a wonderful memory all the way from Hallowe'en to Christmas. She was a 3 year-old with a fertile imagination, and she decided, without prompting from her siblings or her parents, that she was to be a Witch for Hallowe'en. She was a charming little Witch, and played her role with such aptitude that, considering subsequent events, I'm still not convinced that she's not an actual Witch, albeit a good one.On Christmas morning, no one can be as excited as a 3 year-old, and that was certainly true of Samantha. She fairly tore through the wrapping paper surrounding her gifts, until she came upon one that held her spellbound. Her eyes opened widely and her mouth dropped open as she beheld, what I thought was just a toy broom and dustpan. She grabbed the broom and came running across the room towards me crying, " Look, look Daddy! A flying thing!" Now, if that ain't a Witch, you go me one better.
My Darlin' Darlene and I are soon to celebrate our twentieth year of memory making together. She's the joy of my life, and normally is extremely sensible. But as near as I can determine, our longevity can only be attributed to a lapse in good judgement that she continues to make, year after year, for which I'll be eternally grateful. Gratitude is what Thanksgiving is all about.
Thanksgiving is Dar's favorite Holiday, and no wonder. She's danged good at it. I call her The Queen of the Side Dishes, and there's always one or two that I didn't even realize were on the table. What she can do with Mushrooms is a joy to behold, which, if you happen to be sitting on the wrong side of Son Scott and Daughter-In-Law Suzie, is all you're likely to do. Behold, that is. They count them and then ration them out, between themselves, and leave only as many for the rest of us as good breeding dictates. And, what Dar does with the Turkey is a thing of familial legend. My only contribution to Thanksgiving Dinner involves her fabulous stuffing. She puts the giblets in it. I'm not into giblets. My job is to taste the raw mixture (with giblets) for proper seasoning; not my favorite task, but I didn't get this tank by being squeamish.
One of Dar's favorite Thanksgiving memories was B.D. (Before Don). She was a new bride and it was to be her first Thanksgiving dinner, with her folks and her In-Laws in attendance. She had worried it all together, and was confident that it was going to be a great success. Upon tasting the stuffing, one of the mothers inquired as to whether she had included the giblets. Dar replied that she hadn't, because the giblets hadn't come with the turkey. As dinner progressed, and more of the stuffing was removed, the Mystery of the Missing Giblets was solved. They were nicely cooked, along with the bag, inside the bird. Memories are made of this.
And then, there is Christmas, the crowning Holiday of the year. I know that in difficult economic times such as now, merchants everywhere are desperate to stretch the buying frenzy out as long as possible, but I really object to having Christmas displays appear before Hallowe'en. There are some radio stations that began playing non-stop Christmas music in October. I hope and pray that Christmas doesn't fall victim to the old adage about familiarity breeding contempt. So, I'll save writing about the singularly wondrous event that is Christmas for another post.I hope you all have a grand Thanksgiving, giblets and all.
Have yourself a wonderful day, because it's a wonderful day out there!
Later,
Don Lehr (Michguy)
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