That was a short season!
Thanksgiving was the first time in four years we had guests for the holiday. I haven't been this happy since I cooked for "The Pearl Girls" to fill my home with happy. Niece Dawn brought Watergate salad and a sweet potato casserole. Yum! Her brother, Wes, brought ham, a lot of it. I cooked a Butterball Cajun seasoned turkey breast and made her mom's cornbread stuffing with chunks of the turkey. The recipe's a keeper. Of course we had mashed potatoes and gravy, green bean casserole, pecan and pumpkin pie.
Later, Bryce, Braden and Kaylee wanted Rice Krispie bars. We found Kroeger's closed. I have never seen our Wal-mart parking lot completely full. We braved the crowd. One of the kids reached between snaking carts and grabbed a box. We self-checked out and were back to the car in ten minutes. I suspect others waited hours.
Rice Krispie bars need to set and dry. Not necessarily. If there's melted Hershey to dip them in, go for it. And "we" did. I was a kid, too.
Granddaughter Bertlee came Sat. to bake cookies. Thank goodness Pillsbury mixed the dough and sold it in tubes. We made peanut butter with a Hershey kiss on top, gingersnaps, plain sugar cookies and some with bits of red peppermint candy that reminded me of Grandma. We did the Pretzels with Rolo's and a colorful mini-MnM. She had cookies to take to her 1st grade class and to her family. I hope we can do this again.
Thorton Wilder, "We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasure."
Peace on Earth and Goodwill To All
Maeann
©2014 Red Convertible Travel Series
She took some home. I'm giving lots away for early Christmas treats.
Showing posts with label Thanksgiving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thanksgiving. Show all posts
Friday, December 05, 2014
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Modified Thanksgiving Dinner
The pilgrims boiled theirs. We smoked ours.
Thanksgiving was a perfect weather day here in Mississippi. We put our smoked turkey breast, candied sweet potatoes, fresh cooked greens and cornbread with our neighbor's spiral-cut ham and homemade pecan pie and ate outdoors in the sunshine.
Our eating table is bowed through the center. I suspect years of holding heavy computers and too many books have permanently bent its back. Nothing rolls off. Everything rolls to the middle.
Our yard had muddy spots from five inches of rain earlier in the week. Asian ladybugs are gathering to huddle in the corners of the motorhome. I washed the dishes with water heated by running it through the coffee maker. It's life in the country.
I wanted to live in the city after growing up on a Midwestern farm with mud, mud and more mud. Well, guess what? I'm right back in mud, mud, mud. This time it is by choice. I'm enjoying country and the quirky ways we adapt. It's much more interesting.
2011 Red Convertible Travel Series
Thanksgiving was a perfect weather day here in Mississippi. We put our smoked turkey breast, candied sweet potatoes, fresh cooked greens and cornbread with our neighbor's spiral-cut ham and homemade pecan pie and ate outdoors in the sunshine.
Our eating table is bowed through the center. I suspect years of holding heavy computers and too many books have permanently bent its back. Nothing rolls off. Everything rolls to the middle.
Our yard had muddy spots from five inches of rain earlier in the week. Asian ladybugs are gathering to huddle in the corners of the motorhome. I washed the dishes with water heated by running it through the coffee maker. It's life in the country.
I wanted to live in the city after growing up on a Midwestern farm with mud, mud and more mud. Well, guess what? I'm right back in mud, mud, mud. This time it is by choice. I'm enjoying country and the quirky ways we adapt. It's much more interesting.
2011 Red Convertible Travel Series
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Thanksgiving 2011
I am grateful for the blessings I have and the one's I don't. Chocolate is high on my list.
God Bless you all.
Love,
MJ
2011 Red Convertible Travel Series
Thursday, December 02, 2010
A Southern Living Thanksgiving
Uncle Ben lives Southern Hospitality. No matter when we stop we're asked if we're hungry. His daughter, Patty, always has something cooking. Last weekend she lifted the lid on her lima beans with ham hocks. Yum! And not greasy. She mixed and baked a huge skillet of cornbread and fried green tomatoes. We didn't come to eat, but it smelled so good we did. Wonderful!
The Barrett Clan gathered the Sunday before Thanksgiving over more food than I have ever seen and more family than I could imagine. The ages ranged from one month to seventy-two years.
An eight-foot table was covered with three rows of casseroles and juicy, deep-fried turkey, spiral-cut ham, cornbread dressing and oyster dressing to name a few. Patty made Rachael Ray's potato lasagne: partially cooked potatoes sliced and layered on the bottom covered with a layer of chopped artichoke hearts, ricotta cheese, parmesan and chopped fresh spinach covered with a cooked white sauce. Repeat. Repeat. The guys loved it, too.
Good old green bean casserole graced the center of the table surrounded by a sweet potato casserole with marshmallows and raisins and two with lots of nuts, corn casserole and yellow squash casserole. I don't remember all of them. No failures, I assure you. And there was a crockpot of turnip greens.
Felix's wife bottle fed their six-month old grandson. Jason and Shannon juggled their pre-school son, Joe, twin daughters and infant son. I remember feeling like a jungle gym to my two young daughters. And there's no rushing to the store with babies in tow.
It was a pleasant afternoon of family and friends celebrating their roots in peaceful co-existence. The counter was lined with salads: ambrosia; cranberry fluff; cranberry relish; watergate and more. Among the desserts were homemade pecan pie; apple pie; Abbie's chocolate frosted cupcakes; and a banana pudding made with peanut shaped cookies rather than vanilla wafers. Some Southern cooks use Eagle Brand in their banana pudding. What's not to like about that?
I cut the pecan pie in little slices without knowing it was Uncle Ben's personal stash from Beverly. I apologized. I'll know to hide it next time.
Paper platters were heaped, mine included. Those who ate on the screened-in porch were entertained by a litter of kittens scampering and tumbling. Born in the house, they spent their early days comfy in Ben's bathroom closet. I found them on the floor nosed into a corner under the counter like geese following the leader.
Oh, there's another baby boy. Felix has twin six-month old grandsons. Life is going on double time.
2010 Red Convertible Travel Series
The Barrett Clan gathered the Sunday before Thanksgiving over more food than I have ever seen and more family than I could imagine. The ages ranged from one month to seventy-two years.
An eight-foot table was covered with three rows of casseroles and juicy, deep-fried turkey, spiral-cut ham, cornbread dressing and oyster dressing to name a few. Patty made Rachael Ray's potato lasagne: partially cooked potatoes sliced and layered on the bottom covered with a layer of chopped artichoke hearts, ricotta cheese, parmesan and chopped fresh spinach covered with a cooked white sauce. Repeat. Repeat. The guys loved it, too.
Good old green bean casserole graced the center of the table surrounded by a sweet potato casserole with marshmallows and raisins and two with lots of nuts, corn casserole and yellow squash casserole. I don't remember all of them. No failures, I assure you. And there was a crockpot of turnip greens.
Felix's wife bottle fed their six-month old grandson. Jason and Shannon juggled their pre-school son, Joe, twin daughters and infant son. I remember feeling like a jungle gym to my two young daughters. And there's no rushing to the store with babies in tow.
It was a pleasant afternoon of family and friends celebrating their roots in peaceful co-existence. The counter was lined with salads: ambrosia; cranberry fluff; cranberry relish; watergate and more. Among the desserts were homemade pecan pie; apple pie; Abbie's chocolate frosted cupcakes; and a banana pudding made with peanut shaped cookies rather than vanilla wafers. Some Southern cooks use Eagle Brand in their banana pudding. What's not to like about that?
I cut the pecan pie in little slices without knowing it was Uncle Ben's personal stash from Beverly. I apologized. I'll know to hide it next time.
Paper platters were heaped, mine included. Those who ate on the screened-in porch were entertained by a litter of kittens scampering and tumbling. Born in the house, they spent their early days comfy in Ben's bathroom closet. I found them on the floor nosed into a corner under the counter like geese following the leader.
Oh, there's another baby boy. Felix has twin six-month old grandsons. Life is going on double time.
2010 Red Convertible Travel Series
Monday, November 29, 2010
Thanksgiving catered to the woods
"Baby, could you stop and get us each a plate lunch and bring it to the woods?"
"Or would you rather have chicken and dumplings, green bean casserole and pecan pie?"
"Hey! You guys want chicken and dumplings?" JB called.
Skipper answered for all, "Heck yes. That beats potted meat and vienna sausage."
My car smelled yummy. I couldn't wait to dive in. They were glad to see me, but in no hurry to eat. In spite of Clint's turkey in the oven, a few more stories had to be told, and the cooler wasn't empty yet.
I walked the couple of blocks to our camp. Last year the building burned to the ground in a thunderstorm. Locals said the gas bottles went off like rockets. What was left had to be buried. I was shocked to find no trace of JB's thirty-seven years of camping. This is where we parked our motorhome over the winter. I slept by the fire ring under the stars at full moon. No more handmade, four adult seats swing a friend traded JB for his leather jacket, or motel-sized refrigerator from Lake of the Ozarks with a story of its own. The crushed rock drive is overgrown. Five layers of used carpet, camp grass, is history. So are we.
Too stunned to weep, Mother Nature did it for me. A cloud came up and drenched me. I could almost hear her laughing. Might as well laugh, there was nothing to do but keep walking in the downpour. JB rushed toward me with my car. Too late. Dr. Seuss said it best, "I'll bet you never yet met a wet pet as wet as that pet can get."
Mud. Mississippi mud sticks to the boots and doesn't crumble off. The way of the woods: fresh fried crappie; another deer and turkey season. Nature cycles uninterrupted. The winner in the end. We are mere ghosts of the past.
2010 Red Convertible Travel Series
"Or would you rather have chicken and dumplings, green bean casserole and pecan pie?"
"Hey! You guys want chicken and dumplings?" JB called.
Skipper answered for all, "Heck yes. That beats potted meat and vienna sausage."
My car smelled yummy. I couldn't wait to dive in. They were glad to see me, but in no hurry to eat. In spite of Clint's turkey in the oven, a few more stories had to be told, and the cooler wasn't empty yet.
I walked the couple of blocks to our camp. Last year the building burned to the ground in a thunderstorm. Locals said the gas bottles went off like rockets. What was left had to be buried. I was shocked to find no trace of JB's thirty-seven years of camping. This is where we parked our motorhome over the winter. I slept by the fire ring under the stars at full moon. No more handmade, four adult seats swing a friend traded JB for his leather jacket, or motel-sized refrigerator from Lake of the Ozarks with a story of its own. The crushed rock drive is overgrown. Five layers of used carpet, camp grass, is history. So are we.
Too stunned to weep, Mother Nature did it for me. A cloud came up and drenched me. I could almost hear her laughing. Might as well laugh, there was nothing to do but keep walking in the downpour. JB rushed toward me with my car. Too late. Dr. Seuss said it best, "I'll bet you never yet met a wet pet as wet as that pet can get."
Mud. Mississippi mud sticks to the boots and doesn't crumble off. The way of the woods: fresh fried crappie; another deer and turkey season. Nature cycles uninterrupted. The winner in the end. We are mere ghosts of the past.
2010 Red Convertible Travel Series
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Where's the water?
This is what's left of Lake Grenada on the south end. The sailboat in the distance is stranded. It will take many inches of rain to bring the water level up to dam-worthy depth.
We drove across the dam and spotted a pickup truck out in what used to be the lake parked on an old stretch of highway that is supposed to be under water. Off to their right are blocks in a square formation, probably the foundation of a house. Do you suppose they were reminiscing about the Thanksgivings they spent there?
Pray for rain.
2010 Red Convertible Travel Series
Three-thirty zippers
The bed shook. Earthquake?
"Daddy," Brett called, "It's time to get up. It's 3:30. Come on." Moan from prone.
I nudged and prodded his weary, 2-hrs. of sleep body.
Zip the scent-blocked slacks. Zip the down jacket. Zip the shaving kit. Zip the suitcase. Drive sixty miles. Haul the Sweet Baby Ray's barbecued pork sandwiches, potted meat, Vienna sausages and crackers up into the deer stand. Wait. Wait.
Full moon. Too warm. Deer not moving. Didn't see any. Better when it's cold and nasty.
They're on their way home. Reverse Zips. Bet they sleep in.
It's Uncle Ben's deep-fried turkey for dinner tomorrow, our Thanksgiving.
Happy Thanksgiving to you, too.
2010 Red Convertible Travel Series
"Daddy," Brett called, "It's time to get up. It's 3:30. Come on." Moan from prone.
I nudged and prodded his weary, 2-hrs. of sleep body.
Zip the scent-blocked slacks. Zip the down jacket. Zip the shaving kit. Zip the suitcase. Drive sixty miles. Haul the Sweet Baby Ray's barbecued pork sandwiches, potted meat, Vienna sausages and crackers up into the deer stand. Wait. Wait.
Full moon. Too warm. Deer not moving. Didn't see any. Better when it's cold and nasty.
They're on their way home. Reverse Zips. Bet they sleep in.
It's Uncle Ben's deep-fried turkey for dinner tomorrow, our Thanksgiving.
Happy Thanksgiving to you, too.
2010 Red Convertible Travel Series
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Our first Missouri Thanksgiving
Kitchen tools and spices are scattered from Nebraska to Mobile, AL with little bits here in Missouri. I think of my grandparents as small children traveling by covered wagon. We made do. Co-worker, Rick, and I put our heads together. I made a large skillet of buttermilk cornbread he converted to dressing with sage, poultry seasoning, melted butter, chopped hard boiled eggs, celery and onion. He mixed in chicken broth until it made ball stage. Sounds like candy. Not. We put it back in the big cast iron skillet to bake.
Rick seasoned a 5 1/2 pound roasting hen with melted butter, poultry seasoning, sage and rosemary. He cooked the giblets in chicken broth with two more chopped hard boiled eggs.
One hand mixer in AL and the other in NE necessitated using a slotted spoon to mash the potatoes. JB got his candied sweet potatoes. Rick made sweet potato pie from a recipe by COUGARR I pulled up on the internet @ allrecipes.com. Outstanding! To us sweet potatoes are more flavorful than pumpkin. I do like pureed pumpkin soup. In my family, it's girl food.
Where we found the round table for our kitchen, the lady offered us her yard swing. Today the guys picked it up. The frame is solid. The cushion needs replacing. JB and I put on warm clothes to sit in it and listen to Rick sing and strum his guitar. He does a pretty good Conway Twitty and "Up against the wall, Red Neck mother," by Jerry Jeff Walker. Between songs he said he needed a little table to set his drink on. I remembered seeing one by the dumpster. Ask and you shall receive.
When we drove through our neighborhood and saw two gas bottles by a dumpster that would fit our free grill. JB went to the door. The lady answered and told him he could have one. The magic of Missouri continues.
Thank you, Father, for blessing us with enough everything.
2009 Red Convertible Travel Series
Rick seasoned a 5 1/2 pound roasting hen with melted butter, poultry seasoning, sage and rosemary. He cooked the giblets in chicken broth with two more chopped hard boiled eggs.
One hand mixer in AL and the other in NE necessitated using a slotted spoon to mash the potatoes. JB got his candied sweet potatoes. Rick made sweet potato pie from a recipe by COUGARR I pulled up on the internet @ allrecipes.com. Outstanding! To us sweet potatoes are more flavorful than pumpkin. I do like pureed pumpkin soup. In my family, it's girl food.
Where we found the round table for our kitchen, the lady offered us her yard swing. Today the guys picked it up. The frame is solid. The cushion needs replacing. JB and I put on warm clothes to sit in it and listen to Rick sing and strum his guitar. He does a pretty good Conway Twitty and "Up against the wall, Red Neck mother," by Jerry Jeff Walker. Between songs he said he needed a little table to set his drink on. I remembered seeing one by the dumpster. Ask and you shall receive.
When we drove through our neighborhood and saw two gas bottles by a dumpster that would fit our free grill. JB went to the door. The lady answered and told him he could have one. The magic of Missouri continues.
Thank you, Father, for blessing us with enough everything.
2009 Red Convertible Travel Series
Monday, November 24, 2008
THANKS GIVING 2008
I hope you have a pleasant Thanksgiving. Making a list of what I am thankful for would take days. I'll just pick one something to expound upon: grapenuts in a box.
In my "experimental" days, I made soap, not out of necessity, out of novelty. Squatting on the ground, stirring an enamel dishpan of lye soap with a leg bone, I felt very pioneerish/Indianish. Bring on the drums.
Corncob jelly was another venture. The recipe: start with clean corncobs. Did they think I'd use any other kind? Where were they getting theirs? Boil them down and add sugar. It was clear, red and tasteless. I filled two half-pint jars and set them on the shelf for decoration. No one ever asked for a taste.
In 1898 Charles Post developed a natural cereal he called grapenuts. I love them. When I came across a recipe, I had to make some. Graham flour mixed with brown sugar, buttermilk, salt and soda was spread on a cookie sheet and baked at 375 degrees for 15 minutes, then cooled. I mounted the meat grinder on the picnic table--it was a nice day. I couldn't bend or break up the baked grapenuts. I found a mallet in the garage, wrapped a tea towel around it and whacked away. Sharp-edged pieces flew. The stubborn remainders made my hands sore trying to keep them in the grinder. My effort netted about half a cup. Disgusted, I nibbled a few and ditched the rest. And that, my friends, is why I am thankful for grapenuts in a box.
2008 Red Convertible Travel Series
In my "experimental" days, I made soap, not out of necessity, out of novelty. Squatting on the ground, stirring an enamel dishpan of lye soap with a leg bone, I felt very pioneerish/Indianish. Bring on the drums.
Corncob jelly was another venture. The recipe: start with clean corncobs. Did they think I'd use any other kind? Where were they getting theirs? Boil them down and add sugar. It was clear, red and tasteless. I filled two half-pint jars and set them on the shelf for decoration. No one ever asked for a taste.
In 1898 Charles Post developed a natural cereal he called grapenuts. I love them. When I came across a recipe, I had to make some. Graham flour mixed with brown sugar, buttermilk, salt and soda was spread on a cookie sheet and baked at 375 degrees for 15 minutes, then cooled. I mounted the meat grinder on the picnic table--it was a nice day. I couldn't bend or break up the baked grapenuts. I found a mallet in the garage, wrapped a tea towel around it and whacked away. Sharp-edged pieces flew. The stubborn remainders made my hands sore trying to keep them in the grinder. My effort netted about half a cup. Disgusted, I nibbled a few and ditched the rest. And that, my friends, is why I am thankful for grapenuts in a box.
2008 Red Convertible Travel Series
Thursday, November 24, 2005
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