Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is a time for thanks, eating, and hungry visiting relatives. From the kitchen above the din of the oven exhaust fan, I hear laughter of everyone except me.

Gramps is telling a story about the time he… Aunt Sue is giving anyone who will listen the recipe for her fruit trifle, “And then you garnish with a liter of Kentucky bourbon.” Ah, there’s the secret.

There is always someone in the family who thinks they can sing or play a musical instrument. My great uncle made me a violin when I was a teenager. Although I have never played a note on it, I am sure it plays as sweet as an angel except one Thanksgiving Day when my sister-in-law decided she could play it. She took the violin from its honored place and applied the bow to the strings making a shrieking sound unlike any angel has ever heard.

Before I could reach her and take the bow out of her hand, I heard a thud. I arrived in time to see her trying to put the violin back into the holder. She had broken my G-string.

We all sat down for Thanksgiving dinner, held hands for the prayer, and then as my husband sliced into the turkey, he discovered I hadn’t taken the giblet package out of the turkey before cooking. Yum. After I carted the turkey back to the kitchen, I scooped myself a double helping of Aunt Sue’s fruit trifle. Hiccup.

Happy Thanksgiving, Monticello!