Happy Thanksgiving!

Here's an interesting article covering some of the history of the cornucopia: From Zeus to Williams Sonoma: The History of the Cornucopia. I've had one as part of my Thanksgiving decorating since I was a child.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Thanksgiving, as told by Wednesday Addams

Thanksgiving, as told by Wednesday Addams in the delightful movie Addams Family Values, is an interpretation worth considering.

Memorial Day

Memorial Day is specifically dedicated to remembering the military personnel who have died in the performance of their military duties while serving in the United States Armed Forces. It's not to honor all veterans (there's a day for that).

Enjoy your picnic, but remember what the day is set aside for.

Orange Coffee

Orange Coffee

ground coffee (not instant)  1/3 cup
grated dried orange peel      1 1/2 teaspoon
cinnamon                             1/2 teaspoon
vanilla extract                      1/2 teaspoon

Thoroughly blend/mix all dry ingredients. Blend in vanilla extract. Scrape sides of container and mix again. You can use a blender for this, but I use a fork.

Makes 1 8-cup pot of coffee, or measure it out for individual pour-over servings.

I had this for Thanksgiving Day, and it was good with breakfast while we watched the parade on television:

and lunch:

and apple pie (compliments of The Daughter) and spice cake:

but my goal was to have the recipe tested and ready to go for the Christmas season. I've given a batch to The Daughter with a promise to refill it on request as I do the Spice Tea mix, and we will both enjoy it during the holidays.

I'm going to link up with the T Stands for Tuesday blogger gathering where we share a post that includes a drink. Please join us.

An Old Fashioned Thanksgiving, by Louisa May Alcott

Happy Thanksgiving!

An Old Fashioned Thanksgiving is an 1881 short story by Louisa May Alcott. You can read it online at this link or have it read to you here. It begins,

Sixty years ago, up among the New Hampshire hills, lived Farmer Bassett, with a house full of sturdy sons and daughters growing up about him. They were poor in money, but rich in land and love, for the wide acres of wood, corn, and pasture land fed, warmed, and clothed the flock, while mutual patience, affection, and courage made the old farm-house a very happy home.

November had come; the crops were in, and barn, buttery, and bin were overflowing with the harvest that rewarded the summer's hard work. The big kitchen was a jolly place just now, for in the great fireplace roared a cheerful fire; on the walls hung garlands of dried apples, onions, and corn; up aloft from the beams shone crook-necked squashes, juicy hams, and dried venison—for in those days deer still haunted the deep forests, and hunters flourished. Savory smells were in the air; on the crane hung steaming kettles, and down among the red embers copper sauce-pans simmered, all suggestive of some approaching feast.

A white-headed baby lay in the old blue cradle that had rocked seven other babies, now and then lifting his head to look out, like a round, full moon, then subsided to kick and crow contentedly, and suck the rosy apple he had no teeth to bite. Two small boys sat on the wooden settle shelling corn for popping, and picking out the biggest nuts from the goodly store their own hands had gathered in October. Four young girls stood at the long dresser, busily chopping meat, pounding spice, and slicing apples; and the tongues of Tilly, Prue, Roxy, and Rhody went as fast as their hands. Farmer Bassett, and Eph, the oldest boy, were "chorin' 'round" outside, for Thanksgiving was at hand, and all must be in order for that time-honored day.

To and fro, from table to hearth, bustled buxom Mrs. Bassett, flushed and floury, but busy and blithe as the queen bee of this busy little hive should be.

"I do like to begin seasonable and have things to my mind. Thanksgivin' dinners can't be drove, and it does take a sight of victuals to fill all these hungry stomicks," said the good woman, as she gave a vigorous stir to the great kettle of cider apple-sauce, and cast a glance of housewifely pride at the fine array of pies set forth on the buttery shelves.

"Only one more day and then it will be time to eat. I didn't take but one bowl of hasty pudding this morning, so I shall have plenty of room when the nice things come," confided Seth to Sol, as he cracked a large hazel-nut as easily as a squirrel.

"No need of my starvin' beforehand. I always have room enough, and I'd like to have Thanksgiving every day," answered Solomon, gloating like a young ogre over the little pig that lay near by, ready for roasting.

"Sakes alive, I don't, boys! It's a marcy it don't come but once a year. I should be worn to a thread-paper with all this extra work atop of my winter weavin' and spinnin'," laughed their mother, as she plunged her plump arms into the long bread-trough and began to knead the dough as if a famine was at hand.

Tilly, the oldest girl, a red-cheeked, black-eyed lass of fourteen, was grinding briskly at the mortar, for spices were costly, and not a grain must be wasted. Prue kept time with the chopper, and the twins sliced away at the apples till their little brown arms ached, for all knew how to work, and did so now with a will.

"I think it's real fun to have Thanksgiving at home. I'm sorry Gran'ma is sick, so we can't go there as usual, but I like to mess 'round here, don't you, girls?" asked Tilly, pausing to take a sniff at the spicy pestle.

"It will be kind of lonesome with only our own folks." "I like to see all the cousins and aunts, and have games, and sing," cried the twins, who were regular little romps, and could run, swim, coast and shout as well as their brothers.

"I don't care a mite for all that. It will be so nice to eat dinner together, warm and comfortable at home," said quiet Prue, who loved her own cozy nooks like a cat.

"Come, girls, fly 'round and get your chores done, so we can clear away for dinner jest as soon as I clap my bread into the oven," called Mrs. Bassett presently, as she rounded off the last loaf of brown bread which was to feed the hungry mouths that seldom tasted any other.

"Here's a man comin' up the hill, lively!" "Guess it's Gad Hopkins. Pa told him to bring a dezzen oranges, if they warn't too high!" shouted Sol and Seth, running to the door, while the girls smacked their lips at the thought of this rare treat, and Baby threw his apple overboard, as if getting ready for a new cargo.

But all were doomed to disappointment, for it was not Gad, with the much-desired fruit. It was a stranger, who threw himself off his horse and hurried up to Mr. Bassett in the yard, with some brief message that made the farmer drop his ax and look so sober that his wife guessed at once some bad news had come; and crying, "Mother's wuss! I know she is!" out ran the good woman, forgetful of the flour on her arms and the oven waiting for its most important batch.

The man said old Mr. Chadwick, down to Keene, stopped him as he passed, and told him to tell Mrs. Bassett her mother was failin' fast, and she'd better come to-day. He knew no more, and having delivered his errand he rode away, saying it looked like snow and he must be jogging, or he wouldn't get home till night.

"We must go right off, Eldad. Hitch up, and I'll be ready in less'n no time," said Mrs. Bassett, wasting not a minute in tears and lamentations, but pulling off her apron as she went in, with her mind in a sad jumble of bread, anxiety, turkey, sorrow, haste, and cider apple-sauce.

A few words told the story, and the children left their work to help her get ready, mingling their grief for "Gran'ma" with regrets for the lost dinner.

"I'm dreadful sorry, dears, but it can't be helped. I couldn't cook nor eat no way, now, and if that blessed woman gets better sudden, as she has before, we'll have cause for thanksgivin', and I'll give you a dinner you won't forget in a hurry," said Mrs. Bassett, as she tied on her brown silk pumpkin-hood, with a sob for the good old mother who had made it for her.

Not a child complained after that, but ran about helpfully, bringing moccasins, heating the footstone, and getting ready for a long drive, because Gran'ma lived twenty miles away, and there were no railroads in those parts to whisk people to and fro like magic. By the time the old yellow sleigh was at the door, the bread was in the oven, and Mrs. Bassett was waiting, with her camlet cloak on, and the baby done up like a small bale of blankets.

It was very loosely adapted for television with Jacqueline Bisset, and you can view it divided into two parts. Part 1:

Part 2:

Two Thanksgiving Day Gentlemen, by O. Henry

Two Thanksgiving Day Gentlemen is a 1907 short story by O. Henry. You can read it online. It begins,

There is one day that is ours. There is one day when all we Americans who are not self-made go back to the old home to eat saleratus biscuits and marvel how much nearer to the porch the old pump looks than it used to. Bless the day. President Roosevelt gives it to us. We hear some talk of the Puritans, but don't just remember who they were. Bet we can lick 'em, anyhow, if they try to land again. Plymouth Rocks? Well, that sounds more familiar. Lots of us have had to come down to hens since the Turkey Trust got its work in. But somebody in Washington is leaking out advance information to 'em about these Thanksgiving proclamations.

The big city east of the cranberry bogs has made Thanksgiving Day an institution. The last Thursday in November is the only day in the year on which it recognizes the part of America lying across the ferries. It is the one day that is purely American. Yes, a day of celebration, exclusively American.

And now for the story which is to prove to you that we have traditions on this side of the ocean that are becoming older at a much rapider rate than those of England are--thanks to our git-up and enterprise.

Stuffy Pete took his seat on the third bench to the right as you enter Union Square from the east, at the walk opposite the fountain. Every Thanksgiving Day for nine years he had taken his seat there promptly at 1 o'clock. For every time he had done so things had happened to him -Charles Dickensy things that swelled his waistcoat above his heart, and equally on the other side.

But to-day Stuffy Pete's appearance at the annual trysting place seemed to have been rather the result of habit than of the yearly hunger which, as the philanthropists seem to think, afflicts the poor at such extended intervals.

Certainly Pete was not hungry.

You can listen to it read to you here:

O. Henry, 1909

Grateful Thanksgiving

Our Thanksgiving feast will include turkey breast, dressing, cranberry sauce, green bean casserole, pie, cake.... I don't cook much for it any more. My Mother died on Thanksgiving Day, and there's a touch of sadness to the holiday now and wrestling with pots and pans has never been a comfort to me.

Tomorrow we will start decorating for Christmas, which seems deeply wrong somehow but there ya go. That tradition began when we were being invited to my in-laws' house for Thanksgiving and so went to my Mother's house the day after. She didn't want to decorate for Christmas by herself and we lived in another town, so she turned the day into a Trim-the-Tree party.

On this day I'm thankful to be living the life I'm living. May all my friends and relatives find gratitude for where they are.

If you're in the mood for a movie, perhaps you'll find one to your liking on this list of Thanksgiving films. Some are short, some long, some serious, some silly. I haven't seen many of them myself.

Happy Star Wars Day!

Happy Star Wars Day!

Happy Thanksgiving (early)

I'm having Suisse Mocha this morning in a cup that I only use during the Autumn. I like the changing of the season from Summer to Autumn, the growing crispness in the air, the colors of the leaves. The end of November brings all that to a close and brings in the bareness of Winter. While the Fall season lasts, though, I'll enjoy it. This coming Thursday is our Thanksgiving celebration. Mother always did the cooking, and I don't have the heart to do it now; so we're buying dishes ready-made. It'll be fine. We'll have turkey breast (I'll cook that), a small boneless sliced ham, cornbread dressing, sweet potato casserole, green bean casserole, fruit salad, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, rolls, and desserts.

We have a children's book that illustrates the poem "Over the River and Through the Woods", and I remember singing the words as we were on our way to Mother's when the kids were little:

As to the cup and saucer, there's no marking on the bottoms, but I've discovered it's a transferware ironstone pattern called Memory Lane (Pink) by Royal (USA). I bought this in a local antique mall. The pattern isn't rare or expensive, even though it's '60s-era and long discontinued. You can buy your own online for $7.99 at Replacements.com.

Join the party at Bluebeard and Elizabeth's blog. I'm headed over there to see what the others are up to this week.

Towel Day

Don't panic! Today is Towel Day, a day set aside in memory of Douglas Adams. You can learn more at TowelDay.org. There are Facebook events and a community page. I'm keeping my towel with me, close at hand, all day.

from Adams' work The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, as quoted at the Wikipedia Towel Day site:

A towel, it says, is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitch hiker can have. Partly it has great practical value - you can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus V, inhaling the heady sea vapours; you can sleep under it beneath the stars which shine so redly on the desert world of Kakrafoon; use it to sail a mini raft down the slow heavy river Moth; wet it for use in hand-to-hand-combat; wrap it round your head to ward off noxious fumes or to avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (a mindboggingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can't see it, it can't see you - daft as a bush, but very, very ravenous); you can wave your towel in emergencies as a distress signal, and of course dry yourself off with it if it still seems to be clean enough.

More importantly, a towel has immense psychological value. For some reason, if a strag (strag: non-hitch hiker) discovers that a hitch hiker has his towel with him, he will automatically assume that he is also in possession of a toothbrush, face flannel, soap, tin of biscuits, flask, compass, map, ball of string, gnat spray, wet weather gear, space suit etc., etc. Furthermore, the strag will then happily lend the hitch hiker any of these or a dozen other items that the hitch hiker might accidentally have "lost". What the strag will think is that any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through, and still knows where his towel is is clearly a man to be reckoned with.

The picture at the top of the page is from RTLSTUFF on Tumblr.

Talk Like Yoda Day

Talk like Yoda you will. Feel silly you will, yes, but worry about what others might think do not. If assistance you need, check out the yodaspeak converter you may. Directions here there are. A Facebook event there is.

Skipping this fun observance, are you? Beware the boring side. Once you start down the boring path, forever will it dominate your destiny.

From OrangeBeard the photo above is.

Poor Jack o' Lantern Pumpkin

Here we are thinking about Christmas decorations, and the pumpkin never got carved. Of course, it lasted a lot longer this way.

Happy 4th!

Our usual practice is to go out to the in-laws' house for cook-out and fireworks, but we couldn't stay for the fireworks because of the late start time last night and weren't offered the option of coming to the cook-out if we couldn't stay for the late-night event. So we stayed home this year and had supper and videos in. It was a fine way to spend the evening. And it was completely stress-free.

Summer Solstice

Today is the Summer Solstice, and it's been our practice since the kids were little to watch the sunset and have donuts for supper on this day. Tonight we watched the sun set over the Mississippi River. We haven't always come here, but it's a wonderful spot for it and we've gone downtown and sat in Tom Lee Park for several years now. It's been unseasonably hot lately, but it was pleasant on the river tonight. The Daughter finished her camp counselor gig in time to come with us, but The Elder Son had to work and The Younger Son made other plans before he realized what day it was.

Other years:
2009
2008
2007

Towel Day

Don't panic! Today is Towel Day, a day set aside in memory of Douglas Adams. I'd have carried my towel with me, but I had a medical procedure done and I didn't think my towel would be welcome. I had it close at hand for the rest of the day. There's a Facebook event.

from Adams' work The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, as quoted at the Wikipedia Towel Day site:

A towel, it says, is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitch hiker can have. Partly it has great practical value - you can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus V, inhaling the heady sea vapours; you can sleep under it beneath the stars which shine so redly on the desert world of Kakrafoon; use it to sail a mini raft down the slow heavy river Moth; wet it for use in hand-to-hand-combat; wrap it round your head to ward off noxious fumes or to avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (a mindboggingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can't see it, it can't see you - daft as a bush, but very, very ravenous); you can wave your towel in emergencies as a distress signal, and of course dry yourself off with it if it still seems to be clean enough.

More importantly, a towel has immense psychological value. For some reason, if a strag (strag: non-hitch hiker) discovers that a hitch hiker has his towel with him, he will automatically assume that he is also in possession of a toothbrush, face flannel, soap, tin of biscuits, flask, compass, map, ball of string, gnat spray, wet weather gear, space suit etc., etc. Furthermore, the strag will then happily lend the hitch hiker any of these or a dozen other items that the hitch hiker might accidentally have "lost". What the strag will think is that any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through, and still knows where his towel is is clearly a man to be reckoned with.

May the 4th Be With You!

Happy Star Wars Day.

The Smithsonian has an article on the celebration.

The picture comes from Sarah + Tim's blog.

The Church of Life After Shopping

In observance of this great week-end of the celebration of all kinds of over-indulgence, I'm spending a bit of time looking at Rev Billy and The Church of Life After Shopping. Part of Reverend Billy's belief statement says:

Our neighborhoods, "commons" places like stoops and parks and streets and libraries, are disappearing into the corporatized world of big boxes and chain stores. But if we "back away from the product" – even a little bit, well then we Put The Odd Back In God!

You can watch What Would Jesus Buy here:

or here.

"We used to be a nation of producers. Now we're a nation of consumers."

"We're proceeding into this shopping season under an enormous misunderstanding. We think that we are consumers at Christmastime. No! We are being consumed at Christmastime."

"What was Christmas before the shopping started?"

"Start Giving. Stop shopping."

from the film's web site:

What Would Jesus Buy? follows Reverend Billy and the Church of Stop Shopping Gospel Choir as they go on a cross-country mission to save Christmas from the Shopocalypse: the end of mankind from consumerism, over-consumption and the fires of eternal debt!

Rev Billy's site provides a link to MakeWealthHistory.org, which says

Let me summarise the idea of Christian responsibilty in four areas:

We have a duty to God.
Psalm 24 begins with the following words: ‘The earth is the LORD’s, and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it.’ The earth is not ours. Contrary to some popular understanding, God did not give us the earth – he gave us the use of it.

We have a duty to the world
In Genesis we read that God made the earth good, and that the earth is ‘cursed’ because of us. Human behaviour and the state of the earth are inextricably linked. Have a look at Hosea 4, where it describes a society’s violence and dishonesty, and goes on to say: ‘Because of this the land mourns…’

We have a duty to each other
A very simple principle that John the Baptist puts best in Luke 3: ‘The man with two tunics should share with him who has none, and the one who has food should do the same.’

and more.

Following the link trail from there, I find a site which says,

The consumer dream is, in essence, the promise that happiness will come to us through our consumer choices. I will be a more fulfilled person if I have a larger house, a faster car, and newer clothes. I will feel better about myself, and others will like me more.

On paper, it looks patently false and insulting to our intelligence. And yet somehow we’re all drawn into it, to one degree or another.
...
As Christians, we have a different reality, a higher purpose than this endless cycle of distraction and gratification. We know who we are in Christ, and we express that identity through our love for each other, not our choice of logos. We are at liberty to live simply, because our sense of value doesn’t come from what we own. It comes from the knowledge that we’re made in the image of God.

Thanksgiving Films

We've always been at a loss for movies that take place at Thanksgiving, especially if we wanted something a bit cheerful. To be honest, we gave up the quest years ago when the parades were better and The Husband had cable for his Turkey Day sports fix. When I ran across this post naming a few Thanksgiving movies I thought I'd try to put together my own list. I found a lot more Thanksgiving movies out there than I realized there were. Maybe we'll even watch one, since the parades have turned into advertisements for sit-coms we've never heard of and the sports are unwatchable on our cable-free, digitally-impaired TV. Or maybe I'll wait and have a Thanksgiving Movie Month next year...

Jerky Turkey (1945)
Holiday for Drumsticks (1949, Daffy Duck)
The Little Orphan (1949, Tom & Jerry)
Mouse on the Mayflower (1968)
Alice's Restaurant (1969)
A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving (1973)
The Waltons: The Thanksgiving Story (1973)
Hannah and Her Sisters (1986)
Planes Trains and Automobiles (1987)
Avalon (1990)
Dutch (1991)
Scent of a Woman (1992)
Son-in-Law (1993)
Home for the Holidays (1995)
The War at Home (1996)
The House of Yes (1997)
The Ice Storm (1997)
What's Cooking (2000)
National Lampoon's Thanksgiving Family Reunion (2003)
Tadpole (2002)
Pieces of April (2008)

Thanksgiving

Happy Turkey Day!