When I write what I am thankful for tomorrow on facebook, it will read something like "I am thankful for all of the wonderful Thanksgiving memories that I have made over the years." I have the gift/curse of a good memory, although half the time I can't remember what the heck I'm doing, or looking for, my recall of past events is amazing.
I'm sitting here trying to think of just which memory to share, there are so many! I think this year I will go with my earlier ones. Of course I remember making hand turkey's in art class, and thanksgiving place mats at school. I always think of my Mom making her dressing (ugh, giblets) after supper dishes were done on the night before the holiday. The smell of the celery, onion, and sage filling the house. She called it dressing, not stuffing, and it had apples in it. I liked it, just not the little extra parts (giblets). I always picked them out.
Aunt Dorothy and Uncle Joe would sometimes come from Madison to share the holiday with us. My very first real Thanksgiving memory is of a blizzard holding them up, and sitting outside my house in full snow gear, in a huge snowbank, waiting for them. I couldn't have been more than six. Another memory, probably the following year has me sitting in a car with Aunt Dorothy outside of Presidents liquor store, it was sleeting that time. Uncle Joe was inside getting supplies for the holiday. Then we flash forward a few years and my brother and I were playing in the woods, skating on some frozen pond water, killing time while waiting for them to arrive. No snow that year, but cold. I might have been ten.
Sometimes the holiday was at our house, sometimes at my Aunt Mary's. We didn't do Thanksgiving with the Meys side, and my Grandma Meys must have gone over to Aunt Pat and Uncle Bill's house during those early years. She and sister Eva Jean were definitely there with us in my later teens though. I believe the water goblet incident, as it has come to be called, happened on Thanksgiving. What? I haven't told you the water goblet incident? Ha, that will be my turkey day blog tomorrow.
When I was twelve, I had my first "boyfriend" ask me to "go" with him right around Thanksgiving. He called me on Thanksgiving night, and I still remember part of the call. (awwww) That would be Rick, for those of you keeping count. :)
Somewhere around this time things changed. Aunt Dorothy and Uncle Joe moved to Utah, and Aunt Mary and Uncle Clate started wintering in Texas. Now it was just our immediate family for Thanksgiving. My Mom was the church secretary at St. Anthony's, and she would invite the housekeeper, Dorothy Baker, and the priest, Father Pius to join us. I remember lots of laughter, and checker games. Then the later teens where my Grandma Meys, and Aunt, Sister Eva Jean would join us too.
Funny thing is, though Wally and I were together for most of those years, I have no Thanksgiving memories of him. He was always out at his Grandma's farm hunting. Lots of memories of my siblings and Vicki and I playing outside during the holiday break from school though! I'm trying to think if I even saw Wally when I came home........OH, the Wiley story. I didn't see him when I came home in '87 for Thanksgiving. He was in basic training. He called though, and the operator had a southern accent. I was laying in bed sleeping in and I hear my sister say "No, I wont accept the charges, I don't know any Wiley." I came flying out of bed yelling " It's Wally you dummy!" On the other end he's yelling "Katy it's me!" Sheesh.. :)
So I sit here laughing, although almost everyone in this blog is gone now. They are good memories, with good people, and good times. May we all make many more happy Thanksgiving memories this year.
I'm sitting here trying to think of just which memory to share, there are so many! I think this year I will go with my earlier ones. Of course I remember making hand turkey's in art class, and thanksgiving place mats at school. I always think of my Mom making her dressing (ugh, giblets) after supper dishes were done on the night before the holiday. The smell of the celery, onion, and sage filling the house. She called it dressing, not stuffing, and it had apples in it. I liked it, just not the little extra parts (giblets). I always picked them out.
Aunt Dorothy and Uncle Joe would sometimes come from Madison to share the holiday with us. My very first real Thanksgiving memory is of a blizzard holding them up, and sitting outside my house in full snow gear, in a huge snowbank, waiting for them. I couldn't have been more than six. Another memory, probably the following year has me sitting in a car with Aunt Dorothy outside of Presidents liquor store, it was sleeting that time. Uncle Joe was inside getting supplies for the holiday. Then we flash forward a few years and my brother and I were playing in the woods, skating on some frozen pond water, killing time while waiting for them to arrive. No snow that year, but cold. I might have been ten.
Sometimes the holiday was at our house, sometimes at my Aunt Mary's. We didn't do Thanksgiving with the Meys side, and my Grandma Meys must have gone over to Aunt Pat and Uncle Bill's house during those early years. She and sister Eva Jean were definitely there with us in my later teens though. I believe the water goblet incident, as it has come to be called, happened on Thanksgiving. What? I haven't told you the water goblet incident? Ha, that will be my turkey day blog tomorrow.
When I was twelve, I had my first "boyfriend" ask me to "go" with him right around Thanksgiving. He called me on Thanksgiving night, and I still remember part of the call. (awwww) That would be Rick, for those of you keeping count. :)
Somewhere around this time things changed. Aunt Dorothy and Uncle Joe moved to Utah, and Aunt Mary and Uncle Clate started wintering in Texas. Now it was just our immediate family for Thanksgiving. My Mom was the church secretary at St. Anthony's, and she would invite the housekeeper, Dorothy Baker, and the priest, Father Pius to join us. I remember lots of laughter, and checker games. Then the later teens where my Grandma Meys, and Aunt, Sister Eva Jean would join us too.
Funny thing is, though Wally and I were together for most of those years, I have no Thanksgiving memories of him. He was always out at his Grandma's farm hunting. Lots of memories of my siblings and Vicki and I playing outside during the holiday break from school though! I'm trying to think if I even saw Wally when I came home........OH, the Wiley story. I didn't see him when I came home in '87 for Thanksgiving. He was in basic training. He called though, and the operator had a southern accent. I was laying in bed sleeping in and I hear my sister say "No, I wont accept the charges, I don't know any Wiley." I came flying out of bed yelling " It's Wally you dummy!" On the other end he's yelling "Katy it's me!" Sheesh.. :)
So I sit here laughing, although almost everyone in this blog is gone now. They are good memories, with good people, and good times. May we all make many more happy Thanksgiving memories this year.
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