-------------- "Ah, Colorado: the one place in America where people wake up earlier on weekends than workdays." ~Mark Obmascik
"In the high country that we love, trails are steep. We climb each mile, breath by breath, and at the threshold of pain, bliss overtakes us. ~Michael Hannon"
Every time I see that Rockwell picture, I chuckle. In every home I have ever been in, where there was a turkey anywhere near that size, the woman asked for help with carrying the bird. Damn things weigh a ton! That woman isn't even straining. She must have been going to the gym and lifting weights to get ready for her performance.
And there is too much clear table in the center. Where are all of the other dishes filled with sides and rolls? There is a reason why so many of us use the buffet style serving on busy holidays.
-------------- Everything I know, I learned by doing it wrong at least twice.
The easiest way to ruin a Friday is to realize it is only Tuesday.
And there is too much clear table in the center. Where are all of the other dishes filled with sides and rolls? There is a reason why so many of us use the buffet style serving on busy holidays.
Also, where are wine glasses and beer bottles?
-------------- Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry,
Good points all! We carve the turkey in the kitchen and only put out a platter with slices. And no beer, but everyone gets a wine glass,and since many don't drink, we have a couple kinds of wine and three or so bottles of sparkling cider. Then there's the stuffing, spuds, salad, veggies . . .
But you know, grandmas were tough in those days. My grandma used to make a dozen loaves of bread three times a week, had a wringer washer, etc. You think you could have beat her arm-wrestling?
-------------- Bits of writerly thoughts and random short fiction found at The Ninja Librarian Blog
How true we always we at a table in another room as a kid. The adults got the white meat and the kids what ever was left.
Alcohol was there but was hidden more or less from us kids but we knew what was going on.
-------------- “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” -Mark Twain
Every time I see that Rockwell picture, I chuckle. In every home I have ever been in, where there was a turkey anywhere near that size, the woman asked for help with carrying the bird. Damn things weigh a ton! That woman isn't even straining. She must have been going to the gym and lifting weights to get ready for her performance.
I am not so sure about that. My grandmothers were born before 1900 and were raised on farms, doing laundry with a wringer washer or a wash board, and lots of other chores that made them strong. Even they asked for help moving the bird onto the table, or out of the oven.
Yes, I am old. My dad was born in 1923 and my mother in 1925. Neither was the first child of their family. My maternal grandmother was born 1893, in Kansas. My paternal grandmother was born in Alabama. Both of them were tough birds in their own right.
-------------- Everything I know, I learned by doing it wrong at least twice.
The easiest way to ruin a Friday is to realize it is only Tuesday.
Considering it is me, the husband, the three kids and my brother...we all eat at one table. No kids table. No booze. But we do have pies. Lots and lots of pies.
And no 25 lb weight lifting turkey ;-) Thankful for that!! The leftovers would be so gross for our small family.
Zeke, I'm close behind you. My dad was born in '28, my mom in '27.
Farms, yes. Hand washing, yes. Wringer if you were lucky, rub board if you weren't. Pigs, chickens, squash, tomatos... Fish, rabbit, squirrel... whatever you could grow or catch.
One of my neighbors had cattle when he was young (we live on some of their old ranch land). There's a story about a steer who kept getting out. One day his grandmother, about 5 feet tall on a good day, got fed up. She grabbed a cast iron skillet, found the steer, bashed it between the eyes, and led it back.
It never went outside of the fences again.
When women were women and pans were cast iron, not aluminum with non-stick coatings.
My paternal grandparents paid the shady quasi-doctor with chickens, ice cream, or not at all. I have it so incredibly easy by comparison. Radiant floor heat, air conditioning, silnylon... Made in the shade...
Survival Skills 101 • Eat Better
