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I see all the #tbt postings on social media every Thursday, and while I can appreciate some of the fun in finding and posting old photos and stories, I am generally not one who participates in the weekly throwback Thursday theme. However, today is Thanksgiving Day here in the US, and I'm finding myself thinking about how we celebrated when I was a child, and thought I might share some of my memories.
As best as I remember, Thanksgiving was *always* celebrated at my grandparent's farm. We would drive over during the morning, and my brothers and I would spend the morning playing with our out-of-state cousins who were staying with our grandparents, while the adults visited and finished preparing dinner. When the weather was nice (and sometimes even when it wasn't), we would play soccer or football on the side lawn, or tag in the hayloft of the barn. We might go for a hike in the woods, or explore along the creek across the road. It was often chilly, and sometimes there was snow, but we always tried to play outdoors, if only because there really wasn't all that much room inside the house. If the weather was really bad, we might play some made up game upstairs and in the stairwell.
Dinner was a huge feast. My grandfather would lay a sheet of plywood over the pool table, which would then be covered with tableclothes, and then set for dinner. Most years, it would be my cousins and their parents, my brothers and me and our parents, my grandparents, and at least a couple of my grandmother's brothers, who lived just up the road. That meant that there were at least a dozen people seated around the table, and some years we might squeeze in as many as 18. The meal itself was the traditional Thanksgiving dinner: Roast turkey, with stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy. Squash, corn, cranberry sauce and bread also graced the table, along with plates of pickles, olives, carrot and celery sticks. The adults drank wine and the kids all drank fresh apple cider, which we probably had pressed out in the barn just a couple of weeks earlier. For dessert, there was a selection of pies: apple, pumpkin, lemon mirangue, mincemeat. Anyone who walked away from that table still hungry wasn't putting in an effort!
After dinner, my brothers, cousins, and I would go back outside to play until dark. In the evening, we would gather around the kitchen table to play games. Sometimes we played cards, but there was a whole range of other games that made appearances over the years: Aggravation, Pit, Pictionary. There was conversation and laughter, and eventually, some of us would be hungry enough to make a sandwich from the leftovers. Inevitably, the day would eventually draw to an end, and we would have to head home. But those Thanksgiving days linger in my memory as some of the best memories of my childhood.
As best as I remember, Thanksgiving was *always* celebrated at my grandparent's farm. We would drive over during the morning, and my brothers and I would spend the morning playing with our out-of-state cousins who were staying with our grandparents, while the adults visited and finished preparing dinner. When the weather was nice (and sometimes even when it wasn't), we would play soccer or football on the side lawn, or tag in the hayloft of the barn. We might go for a hike in the woods, or explore along the creek across the road. It was often chilly, and sometimes there was snow, but we always tried to play outdoors, if only because there really wasn't all that much room inside the house. If the weather was really bad, we might play some made up game upstairs and in the stairwell.
Dinner was a huge feast. My grandfather would lay a sheet of plywood over the pool table, which would then be covered with tableclothes, and then set for dinner. Most years, it would be my cousins and their parents, my brothers and me and our parents, my grandparents, and at least a couple of my grandmother's brothers, who lived just up the road. That meant that there were at least a dozen people seated around the table, and some years we might squeeze in as many as 18. The meal itself was the traditional Thanksgiving dinner: Roast turkey, with stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy. Squash, corn, cranberry sauce and bread also graced the table, along with plates of pickles, olives, carrot and celery sticks. The adults drank wine and the kids all drank fresh apple cider, which we probably had pressed out in the barn just a couple of weeks earlier. For dessert, there was a selection of pies: apple, pumpkin, lemon mirangue, mincemeat. Anyone who walked away from that table still hungry wasn't putting in an effort!
After dinner, my brothers, cousins, and I would go back outside to play until dark. In the evening, we would gather around the kitchen table to play games. Sometimes we played cards, but there was a whole range of other games that made appearances over the years: Aggravation, Pit, Pictionary. There was conversation and laughter, and eventually, some of us would be hungry enough to make a sandwich from the leftovers. Inevitably, the day would eventually draw to an end, and we would have to head home. But those Thanksgiving days linger in my memory as some of the best memories of my childhood.
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