Published:
Nov 21, 2007
Our Telford,
Typically, snow blanketed the property, with ice-glazed barren trees and snow-covered tall pines. The children would take command of the grounds, partaking in snowball fights, sledding and other winter activities. The adults would seek refuge indoors.
While the women disappeared into the kitchen, the men would watch football or catch up on events of the past year. This yearly gathering would be the only opportunity to spend time with the entire family. The cheerful conversation would lead to much laughter and backslapping, as each relative would try to outdo the other recounting the year’s happenings or revisiting old family tales.
When the dinner bell rang, the children were relegated to the den and sat around card tables on folding chairs. The adults would fill the dining room and overflow into the living salon.
The compact house would not be judged large, but homey. I remember a field-stone fireplace, black slate floors, oriental area rugs and a wonderful picture window overlooking the lovely grounds. And I must mention Schnitzel, the dachshund that would quietly meander from guest to guest in search of treats.
Once everyone was in place for dinner, all eyes would turn to me for my annual address. I would stand and say what I had said each year since my second Thanksgiving gathering: “Every year we meet here for dinner, and it’s the same thing - turkey, turkey, turkey.”
Laughter and applause would follow, and then the bowls filled with soup, salad and corn and other breads, followed by roasted turkey, large ham, stuffing, sweet potatoes, corn on the cob, candied yams, cranberry sauce, asparagus, the fixings and gravies. Minted iced tea would typically be the liquid refreshment, but wine was served to the adults as well.
Once dinner started, the only sounds heard were the movement of forks and knives and an occasional clatter of dishes, as large plates of food were passed around. Dinner would start at 4:30 p.m. and typically conclude about 7 after polishing off an array of desserts. And the odor of percolated coffee filled the house.
The women would assist in the cleanup while most of the men would find some place to snooze. They might lay about on a comfy couch or large chairs or perhaps collapse on a bed filled with winter coats. Some would tolerate the icy weather and relax on large porch chairs to smoke.
By 8:30 p.m., families would gather children, express their appreciation to the hosts and head home - until next year.
So many are gone now; the hosts, Jimmy and Emily, died years ago. I still remember the tearful call they made when their beloved Schnitzel died at 17. There were divorces and other deaths. Children grew up and moved away, and the annual banquet faded into history.
Somehow, the
In all fairness to
Currently, our Thanksgiving dinner involves the children but rarely other relatives, who are having their own festivities and live far away. The feast has been replaced by more heart-healthy alternatives. Although the roasted turkey appears on the table, the fixings and other foodstuffs are in lesser quantity, and the dinner wraps up in less than one hour. I no longer stand and give my traditional speech.
I miss the annual Thanksgiving feast in