Tomorrow is Thanksgiving day again here in the old USA which traditionally celebrates the end of harvest. There is a lot of misunderstanding when it comes to Thanksgiving or “Harvest festival” and I found myself among the misinformed. Strangely enough, what became our traditional Thanksgiving is partly English in origin as well as part of the tradition among the Wapananoag Indians of the Massachusettes area.
There’s a very interesting article about the origins of Thanksgiving and other facts in this article at Wikipedia. I recommend reading it since it contains a lot of good info.
Meanwhile Laurie and I are looking at two Thanksgiving dinners (that just couldn’t be beat…*) this year. One at a friend of our’s home with him and his son who is up for the holiday. They’re both from the New York City area which actually is a bit of a refreshing change form the standard Vermont regime, no insult intended here. Vermonters, like “New Yorkers” (any one from New York City or the immediate vicinity. The rest of the State doesn’t qualify) are unique unto themselves with their respective outlooks on life and anything else that might pop into their heads. It’s their manner of speaking that differs for one thing. The other things we won’t talk about for fear of overloading my host’s servers.
Vermonter’s are the only people I know that can pack a whole weeks worth of conversation into the word “Yup”. New Yorker’s, on the other hand, are the only ones I know whose preferred way of showing their everlasting friendship is by trading insults with each other.
Unfortunately I have a rather bad feeling that I actually relate better to the latter rather than to the former (although I don’t do the insult thing by nature, I can readily keep up if the situation calls for it) which is funny because I wasn’t born or raised in either place. But I digress…
Our second Thanksgiving dinner (that also just couldn’t be beat…*) we are having (cooking) here at home. Laurie’s kids are coming for dinner you betcha’! One all the way from Colorado, another from Maine, one more from southern New Hampshire, one from the next town over and the last from upstairs. And of course, along for the ride, are various spouses, girlfriends, boyfriends etc that will have to be stuffed into a kitchen that is not exactly what you would call “farmhouse size”. It’s not small but with 8-10 people crammed into it, it could get slightly cramped…
“Oh, excuse me but your elbow is in my squash.”
“Would you please remove your turkey leg from my left ear?”
“That’s my stuffing, thank you!”
“Please pass the…OW!”
Hopefully there won’t be too many casualties.
So to you and yours and all the rest…
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