The second half of my Thanksgiving was as zany and packed as the Turkey Trot. We drove over to my aunt’s where we found lots of cousins and lots of food.
The table was set for 18 of us.
The plates are a special set my grandmother saved for Thanksgiving.
While everyone chatted over wine, my aunt finished dinner. With help from various relatives, including my sister who was assigned to potato mashing.
A poorly-lit photo of our spread:
On the table:
- Turkey
- Candied yams
- Bread stuffing
- Don’s Pumpkin Dish
- Rutabaga puff
- Green beans
- Mom’s Stuffed Mushrooms
- Sausage stuffing
- Mashed squash
- Gravy
We stuffed ourselves silly. I probably won’t become a dietician anytime soon, since it is usually my goal on Thanksgiving to try a little of everything. (That being said, I don’t gorge away. Think of it as sampling.)
After dinner came The Big Clean during which we attempted to digest/make room for dessert. My 11 year old cousin demonstrated his new skills on the trumpet by playing “Tequila” while a 4 year old cousin shouted “Tequiwa!” right on cue. The baby ran around, the boys wrestled, football came on, and the coffee pot started gurgling. When the dessert was laid out on the table, my sister and I glanced over the options: apple, pumpkin, and mincemeat pies, and cheesecake.
Looking at each other we nodded and said, “Let’s do this.”
Life is short. Savor your options. All four of them.
A food coma ensued, of course, from which I have only recently woken. I found there was enough time to lay around and digest the following day since I don’t celebrate Black Friday, I celebrate Lack Friday, during which there is a distinct lack of activity.
