THANKSGIVING FLASHBACKS Share yours

"For digestion's sake" - LOL!

My first Thanksgiving as a married man went off quite a bit differently than Norman Rockwell could have envisioned ...

We had just been married in mid-October and here we were a little over a month later, not even fully moved-in to our little apartment. My wife had invited her entire family (father, mother, brother, aunt and uncle) while I brought in two brothers. So, there were plans for 9 people to attend.

Our cat Pyewacket, a beautiful and criminally-minded calico, had been circling the dining table from 7am trying to figure out how to grab some goodies. The wife and I were in agreement that food should be available all day long on T-Giving, so we had fruit, veggies, cold cuts, nuts, candy, you name it, it served its time on the table before dinner.

Half-way through Mr. Turkey's bath in the oven the electric went out in the entire town. We kept him in the oven but the wife began fretting that the cooking time would be all messed up.

Pyewacket (whom we usually called "Pye") had decided that she didn't like all the hub-bub going on in the kitchen and strolled out the back door into our yard. Meanwhile all 9 of us were trying to do advanced calculus in hopes of saving Tom Turkey.

That's when I finally noticed that Pye hadn't yet returned. I went out in the backyard and called her quietly -

"Pye ... Pye ... Pye ..."

Nothing.

Then the wife came out and called a bit louder.

"PYE ... PYE ... PYE ..."

Within minutes there were 9 people in our backyard all yelling -

"PYE!!! PYE!!! PYE!!!"

I happened to look up, and there sat Pye atop a 20'-tall wooden pole used as a clothesline support, meowing her fool head off. Of course, like the proverbial cat-up-a-tree, she had been able to get up there but couldn't get down.

Having the closest relationship with her (she had been with me before I got married) she decided to start coming down in my direction head-first. That doesn't work well at all, though, since a cat's claws curve inward. She made it about 5' down before she jumped.

Of course, by now there were dozens of neighbors lined up peering over our fence, drawn there by what they later told us was our sing-song offer of pie.

Just then Pye decided to cast her fate to the wind and jumped toward my open arms. I guess that fate-bearing wind had sense of humor or perhaps Pye's trajectory calculations were slightly off, but whatever the reason she came down using my scalp and face as her landing pad, leaving long, gushing claw marks on me. Still, from some unknown fatherly instinct I suppose, I managed to break her fall with my face and catch her in my arms, whereupon she whirled violently and shot back into the house through the back door, leaving my arms bloodied and torn as well.

Miracle of miracles the power came back on at that moment, so we apologized to the neighbors for the lack of free pie and trooped back into the kitchen and dining room. We managed to salvage the turkey and in a short while he was sitting glistening on the table to the admiration of all.

As if I hadn't been punished enough that day, my wife asked me to carve the turkey.

Now, I had never in my life carved a turkey. I'm not a hunter or a butcher, so I don't know anything about cutting up meat. My father had passed away before he had taught me this most primitive of masculine skills.

So there I stood, with dried blood on my head, face and arms, holding a cheap electric knife and some kind of tong-thingie, with 8 people expectantly watching me.

Pye was circling around my legs, waiting for me to drop the turkey. Damned cat.

I swallowed and began to carve in what I thought was the appropriate way, with a fake smile of assurance plastered on my scarred face. Within 20 seconds a noise came from deep within my wife's torso, a low rumbling which quickly grew into a long, loud keening scream of horror.

"YOU'RE KILLING MY TURKEY!!!"

As she said this her eyes turned red and rolled up into her head, her fingernails turned into blood-red talons and the skin melted away from her skull, revealing a fiery vision of Hades.

Both of our families shrank back, attempting to hide behind their chairs or under the table. Pye was looking out the window at the pole in the backyard, no doubt wishing she had never come down.

My wife finally grabbed the tools of destruction from my trembling hands and proceeded to carve up the turkey faster and better than Martha Stewart on methamphetamine. I was left to cower away into the corner, licking my wounds and displaying my lack of manly virtue for all to see.

I DID get to eat some cranberry sauce that night, though ... after everyone had left, of course.

Pye liked it, too.
 

Living in the country. Mom would get up early! She would not let anyone else help, and fix dinner for aunts, uncles, Dad and us 6 kids. The only difference in the cooking was the turkey. By the time I remembered some of my brothers and sisters were already married. We would gather round the table and "Grace" would be said. As I remember it was only said on Holidays, altho I am sure my Mom said it silently every meal. After lunch the older kids washed the dishes, and all the women talked, kids played games and men retired to the living room to smoke and talk. But then my Mom always cooked, Dad never took us out for meals. Every Sunday was roast or fried chicken, green beans, mashed potatoes,+ many side dishes, home made biscuits and 2 homemade pies and a cake. The 8 of us + in-laws and Mom's 2 bachelor brothers. Our only job was to wash the dishes. We raised our own garden and Beef and Pork. So food was never a problem. We churned our own butter and owned a small pasturizer for the milk. My husband taught me to cook.
 
My mother always made a turkey for Thanksgiving dinner, and we usually just had close family over. She made turkey with homemade stuffing, that had ground beef, onions, egg and bread (I think) , homemade gravy and mashed potatoes. I was a white meat and potato girl, just had a taste of the stuffing...picky eater. I remember my mom up early in the morning, and wincing while looking into the gas oven to check on the turkey in the morning hours. She definitely dedicated the day to cooking and making sure everyone had a nice meal, she put herself in the back seat on holidays like that. Us kids always help with the clean up afterwards, as my mother needed a break. :sentimental:
 
What a tale! Phil, you need to write a book...maybe it could be a book of your holiday (mis)adventures.Lots of holidays = lots of stories.
 
Yup...start with an outline. A roll of newsprint is helpful. Just tack up a long strip on a wall and get started.

Horrid Hallowe'en
Totaled Turkey
Crazy Christmas
Nasty New Year
Volatile Valentine's Day
Eggstra Easter
Freaky Fourth/Flaming Fourth

Surely there are other alliterative adjectives for days besides the Fourth. It's too early to think of them.

Eggstra Easter? The time I was going to dye eggs when I was only about 8 or so...I forgot that they had to be hard boiled first. Oops.
 
Now that I think about it, I did have a turkey-fail episode. When I was just out of high school and working far away from home, my roommates and I decided that we'd have our own Thanksgiving dinner and invite friends who were going to be alone for the holiday. One roommate was an only child and the other was the youngest sibling in hers, with a 15-year difference in age between her and the next youngest. Neither of them knew how to cook. I was the second oldest in a very large family so had a good bit of experience cooking and was the obvious choice for the head chef.

Everything was going swimmingly...the hot foods were hot and the cold foods cold as we sat down to dinner. When asked if there was giblet gravy, I reported that the turkey didn't have any. Duh. Then the turkey was carved, and we discovered that I hadn't taken the packet of giblets and the turkey neck out of the neck cavity. I was really clueless...neck cavity?...and wondered why there were no giblets. It was a good thing that the packet was paper and not plastic!

How embarrassing! I was 18 at the time. Now I'm 73. In the 55 years since, I haven't made that mistake again.
 
Mom up at just past midnight to get the meal and tables ready. Dad drinking beer and in a good mood. Too many people for a small home. Lots of love though and no one was EVER turned away. Remember to think of those alone this day.
 
We always went to my grandparents' house for holiday dinners. She was a nurse, and the timing of dinner was arranged around her schedule. If she worked 7a-3p, my aunts and my mother made dinner so that we could eat when she got home. If 3p-11p, she got dinner started, mom and aunts helped, and we ate at noon. When it was 11p-7a, it all depended on how tired she expected to be! Usually on the 11-7 shift, mom and aunts made dinner while she slept, and dinner was served in the evening. We didn't care when we ate, just as long as we ate at their house! Holiday dinners tasted better there:)
 
I have very fond memories of Thanksgiving dinners. My mom and grandma (who lived with us) were great cooks and bakers. The usual dinner - turkey, stuffing, etc etc. Yum. My grandparents would come, sometimes my grandma's two sisters, sometimes my uncle and his family, etc. Loved it!
 
I guess it would be about fifty years ago that Mom left the frozen turkey in the kitchen sink to defrost. At some point in the night, the four cats apparently got in agreement long enough to somehow get the thing out of the sink and onto the kitchen floor, where they and the dog gnawed at it for hours. It was a little too "rich" for two of the cats, who proceeded upstairs to the bedrooms where one copiously regurgitated raw turkey onto my parent's bed and the other one visited my youngest sister's room and yarked on her pillow. She screamed loud enough to scare the other two cats, who peed in the hall. The dog decided she'd rather make a deposit of her own on the living room couch. If I remember correctly, we had fish sticks with our candied sweet potatoes and non-stuffed stuffing.

Then came Christmas, when, after a few days of everyone sniffing and saying "what IS that smell?" we realized that the dog was peeing on the Christmas tree and some of the packages every time he passed it and we had to throw it out on December 22 and get another one (tree, not dog.....we were pretty fond of the dog).
 
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Love your story, jujube. Reminds me of the time I found out our dog was prone to being car sick. I was in the back with my new suit on and my dog decided he wanted to ride on my lap. Well, you guess it. He ralphed all over my new suit. Love, hate relationship ensued.
 
I was always impressed by how well the Air Force made Thanksgiving dinner no matter where I was stationed...
 

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