I am thankful.

This is my first Thanksgiving Day apart from my family, and I'm a little bummed about it truthfully. Thanksgiving with my family is no small affair. My dad is one of five children, and my mom's one of six; so no matter whose year it is, we're in a house full of people.

Lately, we've been having the Ellis Thanksgiving at my Aunt Mary's house. The spread will likely include family favorites: turkey, ham, canned cranberry sauce, stuffing, broccoli salad, sweet potatoes, green bean roll-ups, and numerous deserts. Yum! This year there's a new member of our clan, too.... Corinne, my cousin's new baby was born a few months ago; and I'm just sick I can't be there to see her.

Ellis memories:

-One year, my Grandmother Nancy made her 'famous' rum cake. I don't think she measured the key ingredient correctly, though, because no one under 21 was allowed to have a piece. (My grandparents are ARP Presbyterians = the temperate sect.)
-Half of this side of my family hail from Mississippi State while the other half call Ole Miss alma mater. This fact makes for tedious conversation about the upcoming Egg Bowl at the "kids' table" (at which the age limit gets mysteriously higher each year).
-Last year, my Aunt Martha Jane brought birthday cake so we could celebrate Joseph's (her adopted son) birthday. (His birthday is actually October 13th, but we had to have a big family party and take lots of pictures to submit to the adoption agency to prove that Martha Jane and Thomas are fit parents. And our scheme must have worked because right now they're in Russia getting a little girl - Julia. Maybe we'll have another birthday party on Christmas.)
-Washing dishes. It so happens that the responsibility of cleaning up falls to the Ellis women. After dinner, there are at least six women at the sink washing, drying, breaking (sorry, Mom!) and putting away dishes. This must be done by hand becuase we use the good silver, crystal, and china for these special occasions. The best conversation of the day comes during these dishwashing sessions while the men are all snoozing and/or talking about the football game(s).

The Skinner Thanksgiving is just as large an ordeal, but everyone is a little louder and more opinionated. (Ey, we're Italiano!) And while we always have turkey and dressing, one might see baklava, homemade raviolis, orange fluff, Jewish fruit cake (no, we're not Jewish), and any number of sugar-free desserts.

Skinner memories:

-One year, there was almost a riot because Grandmother Mary Ann didn't make her potato salad. (I think she just wanted to see what would happen.)
-Grandmother takes personal offence when someone won't try her cooking; and my cousin, Jenny, married an extremely picky eater (whose name always seems to slip Grandmother's mind). I made sure Sam knew about this, and then watched happily while he raved over her minced meat pie. "Oh, Mrs. Skinner, this is just the best thing I've ever put in my mouth!"
-Games of Balderdash, Taboo, etc. As I mentioned, almost everyone on this side of my family is boistrous; and no one is a very good sport. I don't have to elaborate about the fate of these 'family game times.' We since abandoned this tradition and, instead, all go see the latest holiday movie together. While the different features still raise some controversy, this activity is far less hostile than gaming.

Ahhh, there's nothing like family memories. I guess it's not all bad to have a year away. Happy Thanksgiving to you all!!

A Quick Anecdote

In April, Sam and I received a wedding present in the mail. We unwrapped it to find a small, personal heater.

This, I thought, is a great gift; we've just moved to (what I consider) the north, and I'm completely cold-natured. Come winter time, I'll take this little guy to work with me and plug it in under my desk.... and I'll never have to debate my coworkers over the thermostat setting again!

So Sam and I stored the box under the bed with some of our winter clothes.

(Fast-forward to two weeks ago.)

It's finally getting cold here, and I remember my little heater waiting for me underneath the bed. Sam gets it out for me, and I carry it triumphantly into the office (feeling quite like the boy scout I never was). I open the box and begin to unwrap the first piece, never thinking it bizarre that a heater would come in pieces. I gasp.

Trying to process the little ceremic lid I've just uncovered, I unwrap the second item in the box.... a tastful ceramic urn.

Thoughts that occur to me:

-Where's my HEATER?!?
-How funny that this has been under the bed for months, and Sam and I never knew what it was!
-Gosh, this'll look nice anywhere in our house.
-I wrote a thank-you note to someone I don't even know for a gift they didn't give me! And now I have to write another one explaining all this!!

My coworkers got a good laugh out of watching me discover all these things; and I did a little research and found out that the giver of the heater is a first cousin of Sam's mom, whom, she says, will think all this is very entertaining. So no harm done, I guess.

Etiquette tips for the day:

When one is prudent enough to save time and funds by reusing a box in which to give a gift, one must also be contientious enough to note this fact on the exterior of the box.

When a note of gratitude is expected in response to a gift, the recipient(s) must take every possible precaution in determining the actual nature of the gift.