Countdown to Thanksgiving

And you thought I was going to say Christmas- huh??? A few more days before the family eats too much and then fights over the TV. So, instead of gloomy thoughts, I'd thought I'd share a holiday memory. To my dad, who passed away in 1979. I miss him terribly this time of year.

My dad was a fantastic cook and every year at Thanksgiving, he'd make a huge turkey and all the fixings- stuffing, mashed potatoes, spinach casserole, corn. The only thing he would "allow" my mother to do was to bake the pies. My mouth is watering just thinking about her apple pie. Anyway, every year, dad would get up before the crack of dawn and start cooking. My dad was a large man with a colorful vocabulary. We all knew to avoid him when he started cussing and Thanksgiving was one of those days you knew there would be cussing. But, I also knew that I was the only one who could go in the kitchen first thing in the morning. Dad would have mini bagels and grape juice waiting for me and I would eat them while he worked his magic. After I ate, my mom would would go into the kitchen to get breakfast for my sister and brother. She always got yelled at for disturbing dad. It wasn't until around 1:00 pm that dad would emerge and go and shower and change. By then, the turkey was in the oven and everything was simmering in various pots and pans, or was just waiting it's turn in the oven. The guest would arrive around 5ish and dinner would be served shortly after 6. Everyone always exclaimed over how moist and tender dad's turkey was, and they asked his secret. He always told him that he cussed at the bird and the more he cussed, the tenderer it was. Gotta love a man like that.

1979 was the first year mom made Thanksgiving for us. Dad hap carefully typed out all his recipes before he died. Mom's turkey that first year was extremely dry. We figured she hadn't cussed at the bird enough to tenderize it!!