Too tired last night to write. Worked half a day, then came home and started cooking yesterday. Made both the pies – pumpkin and pecan. Despite not having any condensed milk for the pumpkin pie, and forgetting to start the timer on the pecan pie, they came out just fine.
Bruce came in from Columbia and we had a good visit. He brought presents for the kids, as always. He found Alesia several really cute shirts at a sportswear place that has great sales. I don’t dare buy her shirts because she won’t wear them, but she will wear any shirt Uncle Bruce gives her. He found Mike some shirts, too, and a couple of knives to add to his collection. Mike knows better than to try anything dangerous with the knives or to take them to school, which is why I allow them.
Bruce grilled steaks in the dark, which is something I don’t like to do. They were awesome. He got them at Sam’s. He marinated them in Coca Cola and some seasonings before grilling them. I made corn pudding and Souffer’s spinach soufflé. The corn pudding came out well. My brother is a good cook and it’s fun co-preparing meals with him.
Today the plan is to relax, visit, and eat. We will do the “big meal” tonight. I got Krispy Kreme doughnuts for breakfast and we will have quiche for lunch. The turkey and dressing are thawing in the fridge, having been cooked weeks ago.
Here's a little Thanksgiving poem, based on a semi-true story about a Thanksgiving we spent on Edisto Island, the last one when my dad was alive:
Falling Island
By Dee Thompson
To avoid the summer crowds, we
vacation Thanksgiving week at the beach.
Roaring waves throw down a carpet of shells
on the darkening sand, and
threaten
the house on stilts.
Hurricane's coming.
I picture the dead turkey flying again.
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Days like this make me think of family. The photo below is me with my beloved grandfather, and other family members who have passed away. They are with us in spirit. Below is Michael and my uncle Bobby, and me and Papaw. See the resemblance between him and his dad?!
