thanksgiving day 2010
Thanksgiving day was a good one, as most have been, for which I am grateful. For some reason, though, I have never documented any of them for posterity. I have two old diaries from 1968 and 1969. I have running calendars logging daily events and runs since about 1996. The only thing I mentioned in the diary from 1968 was that "we went to Ada's for dinner". I have no memories of that one, but Ada was my mom and sister's friend when I was growing up. She and her husband John, lived on a farm out in the country and had three boys and one daughter. For a while, I babysat for them. For some reason, as it happens sometimes, we lost contact with them. I haven't seen Ada in years. I wish I remembered her dinner.
Most of my growing up memories of Thanksgiving are the ones I spent at Grandma Maxfield's house. I don't remember ever going to grandma Ojanen's house. I must have pictures to document our dinners with Grandma and Grandpa Maxfield somewhere. What sticks in my mind is sitting at the big table in her living room, by the coal stove. The mashed rutabagas are what I remember the most of the food - more than the turkey. Rutabagas are not something commonly eaten in this state but almost (if not more) as popular as mashed potatoes back in my little town. A pretty pale yellow color, they are wonderful mashed with butter and with salt and pepper. They are great in pastys too. We had sweet potatoes and pumpkin pie, I am sure. I think Uncle Booie and Aunt Elaine were often there - don't remember who else though. I am sure grandpa Maxfield had his quart of beer on the floor by his chair and grandma would have a glass of Mogen David wine - the holidays were the only times she drank anything. It occurs to me that I never once saw grandma Maxfield wearing pants - she always wore dresses. She made the best beef barley soup and macaroni and cheese too.
My mom made a lot of great Thanksgiving dinners. In the early days before he quit drinking, my dad pretty much got drunk and maybe other friends came over. There was probably some sort of fight. My mom was a great cook. Anyone that didn't have a place to go was welcome at her table so we often had my brother's friends and once I brought home 4 friends from college. It's been a long time since I had a Thanksgiving in my hometown, but I have been there in November when my mom was still alive and we had an early Thanksgiving. I know there were probably some pretty sad ones. One of my cousins was killed in a hunting accident pretty close to Thanksgiving one year. I remember that occasion, but not the Thanksgiving. In 1963 I am pretty sure we spent a lot of Thanksgiving talking about the assination of JFK just before that. Luckily for me, most of the memories are happy ones with family and friends. One thing I know for sure, in those days, Thanksgiving was an entity by itself and not colored by it's adjacent holiday, Christmas. Black Friday didn't exist and no one that I remember ever put up a tree before December 20th.
I cooked many turkeys myself when Bruce and I first got married. Our friends Alice and Lee also came over for dinner many years until they moved away. Most years all of our kids have been here for which I am grateful - I know how lucky I am because it is unusual to have your kids come home after they grow up and make their own lives and traditions.
My Thanksgiving day now starts with a 7-10 mile run at my friend Ruth and Craig's house and then a breakfast. Kseniya has joined me the last few years and we pick up my 85 year old friend Sid. This year Kseniya and I ran about 7 miles and it was about 6 degrees. But it was fun. Then it's home to help where we can with Bruce's fabulous dinner with many good things all home made. Alcohol is involved but not too much. This year we only had family and Steve and Diane who have joined us for many years too. Other friends have moved away, or were working.
Funny how the details of the days were lost when we were kids, but now are so precious to remember. Wish I remembered a little more but I guess what is most important is now. And being grateful for what is and also for what was. Good memories of Thanksgiving are as nice as mashed rutabagas. God willing there will be many more of both.
Most of my growing up memories of Thanksgiving are the ones I spent at Grandma Maxfield's house. I don't remember ever going to grandma Ojanen's house. I must have pictures to document our dinners with Grandma and Grandpa Maxfield somewhere. What sticks in my mind is sitting at the big table in her living room, by the coal stove. The mashed rutabagas are what I remember the most of the food - more than the turkey. Rutabagas are not something commonly eaten in this state but almost (if not more) as popular as mashed potatoes back in my little town. A pretty pale yellow color, they are wonderful mashed with butter and with salt and pepper. They are great in pastys too. We had sweet potatoes and pumpkin pie, I am sure. I think Uncle Booie and Aunt Elaine were often there - don't remember who else though. I am sure grandpa Maxfield had his quart of beer on the floor by his chair and grandma would have a glass of Mogen David wine - the holidays were the only times she drank anything. It occurs to me that I never once saw grandma Maxfield wearing pants - she always wore dresses. She made the best beef barley soup and macaroni and cheese too.
My mom made a lot of great Thanksgiving dinners. In the early days before he quit drinking, my dad pretty much got drunk and maybe other friends came over. There was probably some sort of fight. My mom was a great cook. Anyone that didn't have a place to go was welcome at her table so we often had my brother's friends and once I brought home 4 friends from college. It's been a long time since I had a Thanksgiving in my hometown, but I have been there in November when my mom was still alive and we had an early Thanksgiving. I know there were probably some pretty sad ones. One of my cousins was killed in a hunting accident pretty close to Thanksgiving one year. I remember that occasion, but not the Thanksgiving. In 1963 I am pretty sure we spent a lot of Thanksgiving talking about the assination of JFK just before that. Luckily for me, most of the memories are happy ones with family and friends. One thing I know for sure, in those days, Thanksgiving was an entity by itself and not colored by it's adjacent holiday, Christmas. Black Friday didn't exist and no one that I remember ever put up a tree before December 20th.
I cooked many turkeys myself when Bruce and I first got married. Our friends Alice and Lee also came over for dinner many years until they moved away. Most years all of our kids have been here for which I am grateful - I know how lucky I am because it is unusual to have your kids come home after they grow up and make their own lives and traditions.
My Thanksgiving day now starts with a 7-10 mile run at my friend Ruth and Craig's house and then a breakfast. Kseniya has joined me the last few years and we pick up my 85 year old friend Sid. This year Kseniya and I ran about 7 miles and it was about 6 degrees. But it was fun. Then it's home to help where we can with Bruce's fabulous dinner with many good things all home made. Alcohol is involved but not too much. This year we only had family and Steve and Diane who have joined us for many years too. Other friends have moved away, or were working.
Funny how the details of the days were lost when we were kids, but now are so precious to remember. Wish I remembered a little more but I guess what is most important is now. And being grateful for what is and also for what was. Good memories of Thanksgiving are as nice as mashed rutabagas. God willing there will be many more of both.
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