A Roaring Fire - Our Thanksgiving Tradition

Thanksgiving brings back so many warm and peaceful memories for me.

We gathered at my grandparents house every year. We wore our Sunday best. After all, it is a formal holiday.

No matter the temperature outside, my grandfather always had a roaring fire inside. The smell welcomed you as soon as you opened the car door. Sometimes it felt great to be in the warmth! Other times we had to step outside just to cool off.

Ellen always cooked - turkey, biscuits or rolls, pies, veggies. One of my brothers would carve the bird. There was also oyster dressing. ICK!!! The token pumpkin pie of course was present. Oh! And Ellen's sweet potato casserole with marshmallows - all warm and toasty and melty. Wonders of Ellen's cooking wrapped you in its arms when you stepped in the front door.

Depending on who all was coming, there might be a card table in the living room. Sometimes I'd get to help set the tables. If I wasn't too busy "helping" Ellen.

Daddy, as I called grandfather, blessed the food then the feast began. He didn't give a sermon but it wasn't brief either. I'd call it appropriate for the occasion.

When I was small, I sat next to Mama (my name I called my grandmother) on right side at her end of the table. As a teen, I think I preferred to dine in the living room. My great aunt "Bobbin" sat in there sometimes too. I remember being older and feeling honored to be able to sit next to Mama again. This time by choice.

After we ate and the tables were cleared, we all retired to the living room. Daddy would stoke the fire. My brothers laid in front of the TV brought in for the sole purpose of watching the Georgia - Georgia Tech football game. My uncle napped in front of the fire without fail.

Eventually, everyone would head home - bellies full, happy to have been all together. I don't remember any ill will or feuding at Thanksgiving.

If you join us at my house for Thanksgiving, expect to feel the warmth of the fire, time spent with friends who are like family and leave with a full belly. I consider it an honor to carry on the tradition.

Pools & Sailboats

In 2002, my now ex and I were looking for a lake house and found one in a great neighborhood. It had a shared dock, above ground pool and a basement. Oh and a hot tub in the master bedroom.

That house - the pool specifically - imprinted itself on our daughter. Many boring details aside, we didn't buy that house.

The house we did buy was better suited for us and still on the lake. I was sold when I saw the view. 

The sellers took their fridge to Texas with them so we got a new one and set a delivery date.

The day came and we went to welcome the new fridge to our new home. While we waited for the delivery guys, the ex and I admired the lake view. It was a typical windy day in Tennessee and sailboats were out enjoying the crisp spring day.

I was at the front door checking to see if the fridge had arrived yet when I heard my daughter exclaim, "Momma! Momma! There's a sailboat in my pool!"

Sure enough there were several sailboats on the water - right out our very own back door!

She Said She Said

Yesterday I told you about my daughter dropping an F bomb.

Today I give you the pocket.

 

My ex and daughter were in the car going somewhere without me. I like to think it was Mother's Day or my birthday and they were out shopping for my gift. Or not.

As the story goes, the kid dropped something - a drink as I recall - and said, "Oh f*** it!"

When her dad regained his senses, he said, "I'm sorry. what did you just say?" 

She said she said "Oh pocket!" 

Knowing she'd be in trouble, not wanting to disappoint her dad and being the smart one, her answer didn't change.

Hmm...