A short post for this morning, since I am at school, in study hall, in the cafe. This time next week, we'll be almost leaving for CT en route to the Kranchelsony estate for Thanksgiving. I think Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday--I love Christmas and all, but I love Thanksgiving because it is the "unofficial" start of the holiday season . . .there is just so much to come! By the way--did you ever notice that the "unofficial" things are usually better than their "official" counterparts? Why dont the unofficial things become official? For example: Memorial Day is the "unofficial" start to the summer season. Well what is the "official" start? Just thinking. This is starting to look like a meanderings . . . .
I think I am making my sherry-creamed onions and Amanda is baking a pumpkin pie. We'll also bring a few gallons of cider from Fairfield's very own Apple Farm; they have fantastic cider. Twon is brining his turkey again this year, like he did last year, and it turned out wonderfully. I can't wait to eat all the stuffed mushrooms he is going to make. It ends up being such a great day because we get to enjoy so much delicious food and see so many people we dont regularly get to see. On a personal note, its special for me, because I get to see both my parents in one location for a holiday--they are divorced, and usually I need to make a couple of trips.
One funny thing about Thanksgiving is how we equate football with the day--even though there are only really two games . . .thats not that much at all really, right? I mean, what's the big deal about two games?
Two of my favorite traditions from when I was a kid was when we watched the Macy's parade on Thursday morning. Also, I remember my mom used to watch all the "Haley Mills" movies (Parent Trap, Pollyanna, etc) on the night before Thanksgiving, after she made her homemade stuffing. I usually peeled all the potatoes, and this has provided years and years of Thanksgiving laughter (about me, of course). I think, though, that I was better at peeling potatoes than covering books. My mom's stuffing was the best--she used Bell's seasoning, real bread, fried onions, and more
What are your favorite Thanksgiving traditions?
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8 comments:
One of my favorite Thanksgiving traditions is to read someone else's blog and steal an idea for my own!
Well I have a few.
The best was watching you sit on the kitchen floor and cry as you tried to peel potatoes, I think I should post that picture on the Favry blog!!!
It was also fun to go to the football games and get hot chocolate and bring nugget to watch you 'play" football
Amanda, Anthony, and I started a new tradition of a potatoe assembly line last year, you were to busy on youtube.
Oh how about when you got drunk and ran outside naked and then ate pringles and read cosmo on my bathroom the night before thanksgiving? that was fun.
Cha Cha says, that Thanksgiving is also one of her favorite holidays as well, I have lots of memories of my own "MUM" and waking up to the smell of the turkey cooking.... My mum taught me how to make "stuffing".!!
Kristin, lets be nice, after all it is Thanksgiving!!! The photo on the floor also, was trying to COVER HIS BOOKS!!!!!
I especially like the songs my kids learned in nursery and kindergarden about Thanksgiving, and we will always remember Jared's poem, that her wrote for Thanksgiving..... Maybe I will have to give that to him and AManda to post on their fridge every year.....
My favorite memory is when I jumped out Uncle Twon's bedroom window on Thanksgiving night. Thank god he saved me.
My favorite Thanksgiving memory is my famous day after turkey FARTS.
My favorite T-day memory is the Reverend at Honey Dew.
I am going to second Timmy Cox's memory as my favorite as well.
Highest of high comedies. Forever will it be remembered that the Reverend "has friends..."
Then seeing him is a vomit ridden Radiohead t-shirt at Honey-Dew at 1 in the morning attempting to speak to the masses is also incredible.
And the fact that it is all recorded on video, allows the memory to remain fresh for eternity.
The Magic Hour.
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