Happy Chicken Day?

                            

                                                                                         Thanksgiving: 2023


     Gobble, Gobble. 
Here it is, another "almost" end of the year day. A day spent with the center of all the family and fun being good food. But honestly, how good is the food when it isn't the traditional Turkey w/ all the fixing but rather Chicken?

     I just don't understand it. Like, who eats chicken on Thanksgiving? I doubt the Pilgrams landed with their first thoughts being "Oh, lets feast on chicken ... turkey - bah humbug."

     I feel has though, somehow - somewhere from start A to the end of B, I might have failed my children just a little. But then, I question myself as in, did I or are they just a product of the World today where there are no traditions only fast cars and faster moments?

     Growing up in The Redmond House, Thanksgiving was always a huge deal. 
My Grandmother would start cooking "the big bird" the night before the "magical" day. The oven would be set at 200 degrees, covered in foil - in the turkey would go. It was a long night for her, I am sure. I know she would get up at least every two hours (no matter how tired she was) so the basting of the bird was what added to the peek moistness once it was carved.
     I would lie in bed and listen to the tiniest creek of the oven door as it was check on over and over again while time ran in the other direction.

     My Grandfather slept through the endless trips down the hallway that she made, dreaming of sugar plums or at least some of the peanut butter candy that would sit on the counter keeping the pies company until dinner was finished, the grandest of the entire day was presented with cans and cans of whipped cream.
     Do not get me wrong though, Grandpa had a huge part in all this Jolly Holiday. He was the one serving up the feast when it was time. I believe it was one of the only 2 jobs he had for that day. The other being to make good and sure the Football game was nothing more than a black screen once the words: "dinner time" rolled off my grandmother's tongue. O! There was one more job that seemed the most important of all. The one my grandmother dictated over and over again.
     "Do not say Gobble, Gobble every time you walk by the oven." 
Now, if you knew my Grandparents you would understand. Grandpa would laugh as much as Grandma would scowl. I think secretly this little game of "farmer and turkey" is some of the glorious happiness that keep them together until the end (of time).

     I sit here at my desk today. The room is chilly, yet I don't bother to grab a blanket. For some reason, I am enjoying the cold. (Hoping for snow) I truly would love to have a hot drink but not so much that I would get up to make one for myself. Alas, I sip on a room temperature Starbucks coffee that harbors the slightest taste of peppermint. I am okay with that for now. Within reach are lemon bars, brownies and fudge all of which is something to be devour but right now, I am content listening to the kids in the living room yelling Bingo as they play a new Elf game together. (Memories but still not quite right yet) 

     Maybe I am just sad today because half my kids aren't here. I try not to think about it but Montana sure is a lifetime away. Rusty is missing too. That is just "weird" to me. Other then Shurree', the kitchen lacks someone to fall over or trip into while trying to grab things from the fridge that (need) to be added into dishes that will never get eaten. 

      Maybe I am just sad today because I miss my Grandparents.
The way that somehow a (disaster) of a 10-hour moment was anything but that.
     Even when the power went out in the middle of the turkey cooking and there was no "bird" for dinner. It was an amazing time. 
     Even when football was still playing while we were called to eat, and my grandmother was slamming things so hard that I knew I wasn't going to be seeing pie anytime soon. It still tasted delicious.
     Even when for the first and only time I can remember snow fell on a family secret that changed the way everyone thought about a situation that was long kept under old hats. It was still home.
     
     Maybe I am just sad today because *cough someone thought it would be a better idea to make chicken INSTEAD of the traditional turkey without a second thought to everyone, yes, even me and just how it would affect them. 

     I know I shouldn't dwell on the fact that, I guess traditions change from year to year and I get that. I. Get. It. 
     I should be the soldier that I always (feel the need to be) and cowboy up if that is even a thing they do? I need to realize that these aren't my memories to make anymore but rather just be a part of. 

I had my "time" when I was younger.
     A time that I will always keep safe in my heart, looking back on as each Harvest moon rises again in the end of the years last Autumn sky.
     A time that was filled with more laughter and love then one person could even be lucky enough to grasp in their hand.
     A time of my Grandparent's voices, soft snow, twinkling lights, a million precious moments and always, always, always a 28-pound turkey with plenty of leftovers to enjoy sandwiches the following week or to just sneak out from the fridge as you slowly pass by. 

     To everyone reading this: I wish for you the happiest of Thanksgiving Days and nothing but the most special memories to keep you warm when you need it most.

                                                                      Time to kick off the Holiday Season

                                                                Joy, Joy and Merry, Merry to you!

                                                                                                         Kazz 💋