It’s that time of year when the grocery stores are stocking up on their 20+ pound turkeys. I’ve already cooked up one and stored most of it in the freezer. We usually head back to Indiana for Thanksgiving with family, and my sister-in-law puts on the feast of the year. It’s one of those meals where you have to pace yourself, especially if you want that pumpkin pie (with R-E-A-L whipped cream) at the end of the day.
This is the time of year I really kind of wish I had a chest freezer down in the basement. The 20+ pound turkeys are on mega-sale, and the fresh cranberries will only be around for a month or so.
No matter, as the traditional American Thanksgiving Day feast that so many of us are blessed to gorge ourselves on will, by God’s grace, come around again next year. My sister-in-law is the usual head chef at our yearly family gathering. (Personally, I prefer to stay in the background and help with the clean-up.) The main thing with the traditional meal, however, is the fun and hilarity that can follow shortly after about the first ten minutes of feasting and before the tryptophan kicks in.Continue reading “Feast on which beast?”
Back in the Dark Ages, you know, like the 1960’s and before (to my middle schoolers’ perspective), childbirth in the typical American hospital was quite sterile and controlled. Not by the mom, you understand, but by the staff. My children were all born in the 80’s, and by then strides had been made toward more home-like experiences, so-called “birthing rooms” and all that. Going back to the old-fashioned was considered quite modern. Typical.