Giving Thanks

Thanksgiving! I love Thanksgiving. In large part because it gives me an awesome excuse to make pumpkin bread, which is one my favorite favorite favorite things. Why don't I just make it whenever, you ask? Because there is a stick and a half of butter and like two and a half cups of sugar in there. If I made this all the time my arteries would clog immediately and I'd weight seven hundred pounds. Thus, I seek an excuse for the making.

It's also a holiday that I am fond of conceptually.

Okay, not the whole made up Pilgrims Come to America thing (oh sure, let's have a holiday to commemorate a fest of thanks! A diary entry from that fateful day:  We shared a feast with the neighbors who helped our dumb asses out when we showed up and didn't know how to collect oysters or grow corn. That was last year. This year, we killed them. Goody Williams suggested that we roast them, but she was voted down after the good Reverend Salisbury prayed for guidance and the large limb of a tree was heard to crack loudly and fall when he asked the Lord if we shouldn't eat the savages.) No no no.... I'm thinking of the more general idea of a day in which we contemplate things for which we are thankful. Although, really, every day should be like that right? I wish I were better at doing that.

 

I had a bird in the oven, stuffing (vegetarian and not) steaming on the counter, candied yams (South Carolina style from grandma's recipe, thank you) waiting to get heated up and marshmellowed, homemade cranberry sauce (no, I just can't do the canned thing), pumpkin bread half eaten during the wait... and pie in the fridge waiting for the cream to be whipped.

 

Sadly, there was a mild turkey trauma. According the package, the bird should have taken four hours to cook. I was planning on a 2pm meal, bird ready and leaving the oven at 1:30, sit for half an hour, ready to carve. At 3:24 the popper had not popped. And I don't have a meat thermometer, being that I cook meat exactly one time each year. Is the popper broken? Did it not completely defrost? (It's been defrosting for four days, which really, I think should be enough). I have tried wiggling the legs and they really don't feel done yet. But what on earth is taking so long?

Maybe I'm just hungry.

Popper finally went off at about 4:30. Which was only three hours late, making the four hour cooking more like seven hour cooking. But it did get done, and dinner was awfully yummy. Yummy enough that we'll be eating leftovers for days and days. But that is the point. Also, everything is better with pie.

 

I am thankful for many things, because I'm a damned lucky person. Biggun's are my super fabulous husband and family. I've got great friends. I've still got a job, we're in a house, we have enough to be able to have Thanksgiving, and we have enough for regular meals. I work a lot of hours, but none of them hand plowing a field and watching for rain that will make the difference between eating and not. We have health care. The heat's still on. Lucky lucky lucky.

On a final note, thinking of how lucky I am, I'm putting out my wish that anyone reading this will make a donation to a food bank this weekend. Or any time. All the time. Every time you go to the grocery store. These are tough times for a lot of folks-- food stamp apps are at an all time high, food pantries/banks and soup kitchens are reporting spikes in visitors, and with everyone cutting back pantries and kitchens are seeing incredible drop off in donations. So pick up a few cans of beans, a bag of rice, a box of pasta, and leave it in the donation box. Someone will be awfully thankful.