Thanksgiving Memories

As long back as I can remember, we would go to Grandmother's place for Thanksgiving. Actually it was Great Grandmother and Great Grandfather's place. During the war years we would get in our 1936 blue Ford and drive the back roads to their hillside farm. I don't think we crossed any rivers, maybe a creek here and there, so don't start singing, "Over the river and through the woods......." Did you start singing? If you did, will it play over and over in your head all day? It frequently does for me. Anyway back to my travels. If we were lucky, Dad would put in our sleds, and we could slide down Grampa's hill while the big folks talked and got dinner ready.

Grandma Warner cooked on a wood stove and managed to get a huge dinner ready for her family and cousins. We were a lively group of all ages and thoroughly enjoyed our get togethers. There would be turkey, basted by hand with a spoon, stuffing and all the fixings this family could manage. Home-made breads and rolls from Aunt Helen, pickles of several kinds - home made, pickled fruit, cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes with marshmallow topping, stuffing, mashed potatoes and the list went on and on. The kids sat at one table and the adults at another. Aunt Florence would eat with the kids and always had our table laughing throughout the meal. Grampa Warner would say grace, and then we would all dig in and OVER EAT. Finally came the homemade pies: pumpkin, apple, and mince, for sure, and, of course, some tart white cheddar cheese. What a feast! The living, thoroughly stuffed survivors, dragged themselves to the parlor and sat liked beached whales, thinking about a second go at the pies or more turkey and stuffing. It is amazing that we all didn't die on the spot.

After many years at the great grandparent Warner's house, the whole occasion was moved to Aunt Florence's house and continued with our fall sport of over- eating. One year in her new house on the Owego Road so many of us were there, that the adults were on the main floor and the young adults were in the basement when it came time for the feast. By this time I was classified as a young adult and so got to eat there, too. After dinner many of us pulled out our cigarettes, we were so sophisticated, and lit up but quickly put our cigarettes under the table if any older adult came by to see what the ruckus was all about. It must have been a funny scene to see the smoke rising from under the table as we all tried to look innocent.

Aunt Florence continued to host the Thanksgiving Dinner for many years but marriages and new additions to the family finally resulted in her hiring a hall in which to hold the dinner. Gradually, we drifted away to more nuclear family settings and the get togethers stopped. I miss those dinners and the fun we all had. I wonder if others of my generation remember and miss Thanksgiving dinner at Great Grandmother's house. Happy memories!!!!