We live near our son and daughter in law who is Italian and doesn't like bird of any kind and usually has some kind of Italian pasta dinner at Thanksgiving. We were invited over but my roommate turned down the invitation, saying she wanted a traditional dinner and was going to lay out one and if anybody wanted to participate, all were welcome. She has said two or three times she was forgetting how to cook and there has been an occasion or two I believed her. And too, we have come to downplay Thanksgiving a bit because we have lost several family members this time a year around Thanksgiving. And again, we did. A sister in law passed at 5 pm on wednesday this week from a melanoma.
I have been a little anxious about my wife's cooking recently. She recently passed out and fell in Sam's Warehouse, stiff like a board over backwards, suffering a concussion and bruising her back up and down the body. She has lost some hearing, has lost her taste and smell, and has been getting around rather slow and I have thought a time or two, in a bit of a fog. So I was concerned about Thanksgiving dinner.
We usually get a hen rather than a turkey, prefer it, and she baked one. Cooked dressing, had giblet gravy, mashed potatoes, fixed corn on the cob, green beans out of this world (I don't usually care for green beans). She had a large pan of dinner rolls and. My son called called and said they wanted to come over. They did. I don't usually brag on my wife's cooking, and I bragged only to her and to you, but she out did herself. If she's forgotten anything, she didn't need it. Everything was perfecto The grandchildren were much impressed; they had never eaten a traditional dinner. My son ate like it was a last meal.
The two pecan and two pumpkin pies were icing on the cake, so to speak. She could always do a pecan pie up right. It was a traditional affair but it was special, because this was turned out by someone who had no smell, no taste (she says she can salt a little bit, and in the recent past she has burned a number of dishes. After dinner, the musician in the family retired to the patio and had a jam session. I joined them, mindful how good we had it. And that's my story, Janie.
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