Natural Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. Its more than the four day weekend that comes with it, not that I am discounting that perk. It is a real holiday. It is not blown out of proportion. It is not blatant commercialism. No pressure to overspend, no obligations to be at a bunch of parties you don’t have time or interest in being at. Just good food, a relaxed atmosphere, and people you are comfortable with. Yep! Thanksgiving at ABC!

That’s hunting camp. A roaring fire and friendly voices greet you as you come in the door. All the food is brought in and put wherever there is room until dinner time. Then we catch up on all the “local” gossip. This isn’t what you’re thinking. It is more along “wilder” lines such as: Has anyone seen the bear lately? Are you filling the birdfeeders again or is the bear still stealing from it. Are the swans around still? Any bucks at the bait pile across the river? Grab the binoculars and see for yourself. Seen the flying squirrels? Turkeys? Read the log, it is all there. Anyone taken a sauna lately? Is the turkey done yet? What time do you think we are going to eat this year? Teri, you should have known better than to wear tight jeans for Thanksgiving! How are the Lion’s doing? There is too much static, you can’t see the score. “Open the window, you get better reception!” Murphy declares. Soon we can watch them lose, another tradition. “Dad, Sadie wouldn’t beg if you didn’t keep giving her cheese!” And salami and bologna. Coincidently, she doesn’t beg from anyone else. I try knitting but there are too many distractions.

Then the button pops on the turkey and there is a flurry of activity and noise. Then we sit down, I’m at the kid’s table, and things get quiet. Well, except for food talk. Good food talk. Every dish has it’s moment in the spotlight and the contributor is acknowledged, questioned, and praised. How are we going to eat 4 pumpkin pies? When we can not eat anymore, there is a overall positive statement of finality. Traditionally, Margaret says it best, “Another good meal at the Beaver Club!”

Then in record time, the leftovers are cheerfully fought over and divided up to take home. We take them out to the car, the mobile fridge, for safekeeping where you won’t forget them. It is definitely cold enough and there is snow on the ground. Watch your step, it is slippery…and remember, there is a bear out there somewhere. The kitchen is cleaned, table cleared, and the dishwasher is started.

Time for cards! Another flurry of activity and good natured bickering as preparations are made for some serious gambling. You guessed it, nickel Tonk! Lowell naps, and Murphy heckles from the peanut gallery as Sue loses a hand with his money. Sadie and Heidi sleep in the middle of the floor or under the table. Happy, content and full of what was offered and whatever fell on the floor.

The fire dies down, the dishwasher is done, and the turkey kicks in. The evening winds down. The yawning takes over. It is time to go home and put on some less restrictive clothing and dream of leftovers.