Thanksgiving

I love the holidays, I love my family, I love making new traditions. Whew, that said, let me tell you about Thanksgiving 2008.

I have a small immediate family and a ginormous extended family - 25 first cousins if that helps paint a picture for you. What I started planning back in September was an intimate, dignified, traditional holiday meal for the 8 people who make up my immediate family. This number of 8 works perfectly because I have a dining table for 8, and beautiful gold-trimmed china for 8. I had sent out the invites and made follow-up phone calls to these 8 dear people in my life to see if the Thanksgiving I was planning would work for them or if they had other arrangements in mind. All were agreed that what I was planning sounded lovely, as my sister and her family live in Michigan and my dad has been living in Kansas, and it's a rare occasion we're all together.

When my darling spouse's family learned (from him) that we were doing a Thanksgiving they wanted to be included. It is not as if I do not want to spend time with my in-laws, I love and enjoy them very much and see them ALL quite often as we all live in the same city; I was just hoping for a little time with my family who I rarely see. My mother felt the same way and asked if we could keep it private this once so she could spend an afternoon with her husband and youngest child. We proceed with Thanksgiving plan 1.0, making shopping lists, house arrangements and I even sewed a new holiday table runner for said table of 8.

Sadness falls - my husband's beloved Uncle John dies the Thursday before Thanksgiving. The memorial service is to be held on Thanksgiving day in Montana. With part of the Buell family headed West, the remainder of the Buell Thanksgiving Clan ask if we can now combine our 2 smallish groups into 1 medium-sized group for Thanksgiving and save on some of the work. I can't say, "no" to a family in mourning and with Christmas around the corner, I don't want my name to be Mudd. Plans proceed for Thanksgiving plan 2.0.

Word about free turkey with all the trimmings travels fast. Before long more and more relatives were wondering what they should bring to Thanksgiving and what time dinner was. My dad, who now can't even make it home himself, mentioned to his siblings that "Bridge was cookin' Thanksgiving." I can't be angry with Dad, he couldn't have known all the details of Thanksgiving plan 1.0 and 2.0. Add one uncle and uncle girlfriend. The son of uncle and his family want to know if "Dad is going to your Thanksgiving, can we go too?" What can we do at this point, say "no"? Add one cousin, one cousin wife and 2 cousin kids. The count is now up from 8 to 25. I do not have seating for a group of this size. Particularly not the beautiful dining room experience with crystal candlesticks and stories from days past I had been picturing in my mind since SEPTEMBER!! Ahem where was I?

Oh yes, moving forward to Tuesday of Thanksgiving week at 9 p.m. An attempt on creating Thanksgiving plan 2.1. An aunt of Brandon's wondered if she could bring her family, which could be 2, just she and uncle or 15 them, aunt uncle, 4 kids and 7 kids' kids. I looked at Brandon with
"the look" a wife can give and said, "tell them 'no' it's too late in the game to add 15 more." I'm sorry, I know I am in deep do do for this, but we were out of space and I was dancing on my last nerve.

Thursday morning arrives! Birds are in the oven, sister and sister's husband move furniture around to make room for guests, veggies get chopped, niece gets a bath, cans and jars get opened, tables get clothed; things are moving along! Doorbell rings! The first of the guests arrive! It's Mom with Grandma and Uncle. The doorbell didn't stop ringing for an hour. People came piling in and nearly all of them brought at least one pie and a side dish. Okay, so we have plenty of food; which everyone consumed mass quantities of and then hit the pie parade. The funniest quote of the day came from Brandon's grandpa Sam. Grandma and Grandpa are in their mid-nineties. They're plenty old by most accounts. My grandma is in her mid-eighties and a retired chef, needless to say everything she cooks is to die for. Grandpa Sam is now a fan of my grandma's cooking too. When my grandma arrived to our house, we put her to work making real gravy, you know the kind; smooth, savory and delicious. I made my rounds to the various "dining rooms" to see if I could help anyone with anything and Grandpa Sam flagged me down. He called me near to him and asked, "Who's the old lady who made the gravy?" I answered, "That old lady is my Grandma." Hysterical!! you played on the football team with Jesus, who are you calling old?? Anyhow, Grandma was flattered that her food was so well received and Grandpa was happy because we sent the leftover gravy home with him. If you're thinking that some matchmaking is being done, you're mistaken. Grandma Cook was seated right beside him while he stalked my grandma's gravy, just like she's been for the past 72 years.