Well, Thanksgiving was the typical Thanksgiving in our house. We cooked food at my parent’s house. We then took the cooked food over to warm it up on my grandfather’s stove. The oven on my grandfather’s stove doesn’t work, and only 2 of the 4 burners do. So it’s always a trick to get everything warmed up just right on the stove and in his little convection oven and get everyone seated so that nothing gets cold. Sounds fun, doesn’t it? But it always is, and we all love a challenge. Which this day was no short of.
My mom opens up the cabinet with the nice plates in it and gets a glimpse of a handful of roaches. Luckily in cooking the food, we brought everything with us. So, the plates got washed before everyone sat down for dinner. Apparently my dad had supposedly taken care of said roach problem, by placing all the roach hotels on the counters, and none in the cabinets. Nice dad. But everything ended up working out ok.
Dinner is eaten, relatively painlessly. There were nine of us there, including my family and my husband’s mom, and sister’s boyfriend and mom’s brother. And of course my man. Everyone decides after pie it’s time to go home. So by 3 or so, everyone’s left. That’s the gathering for the year. 3 hours. Isn’t that nice.
After dinner, was actually kind of fun. My grandfather told us about fighting in the war. Showed me what each of his medals were, and a map of the route that his infintry took. He was a Staff Seargant in the Railsplitters. He was a forward observer, so he had to be able to gauge where the enemy was standing, how far away, etc. We talked for several hours about things he remembered. Also found out that he was one of the three founding families of the church he goes to. Regardless of that fact, I still don’t like the church. But it was nice to get to hear him talk about everything first hand. If I had been smart, I would have recorded everything with our video recorder, that we actually had with us. But I wasn’t.
I had thought of actually putting recipes on here, but it seems most of our recipes aren’t really recipes that have things written down, but ones that are taught generation to generation. Written down no where besides in our taste buds. Oh well, maybe next year.