Thanksgiving With Mama Ponder
Like many other families across our nation, it has been a tradition
for a long time that the family gathers at our home for dinner and to
share a few laughs. It is like the Easter tradition, except no
helmets and pads are needed to participate in the activities.
Mama Ponder and Dorey start preparing the meal the day before
Thanksgiving. Actually they usually shop for whatever food items they
need before that. I start gaining weight as soon as they set the huge
frozen Butterball turkey in a sink full of water to thaw. Just
watching them prepare the stuffing [That's dressing for you folks that
started the War of Northern Aggression] probably adds two pounds to my
bothersome waistline. I mean, if we really are what we think, Wendy,
our rockheaded dog, Tigger and Boots, our two idjit cats, Tye, my
niece, and I would all be one of Mama and Dorey's holiday meals. From
the time those two women hit the kitchen, Wendy's nose is pressed
against the glass panes in the French door at the back porch and her
tail wags non-stop and the two idjit cats suddenly decide it is time
to suck up to the family they adopted years ago and always be under foot,
rubbing against whichever leg they figure won't step on them and
constantly purring and meowing to make sure we all know that they are
handy just in case there are any food scraps available and of course,
Tye and I began our traditional pre-Thanksgiving meal fast. Well, we
don't seem to be able to control our appetites when the aroma hits our
sniffers so that is the most reasonable way we have found to
compensate for being hopeless gluttons on this special day.
Johnny, Carla and Tye have always participated in this event and
lately Carla's parents, Paul and Jean have been included. Paul had a
serious stroke and had to be put in a nursing home about six years
ago. So they pick him up and bring him. I think he really looks forward to
it. Jean, who is hyperactive like Mama Ponder, and by the way she is
also another firm believer in the 'Jerk and Smack it' theory, nags
Paul to not eat this and not eat that and will ruin the day for him,
if one of us doesn't distract her so Paul can enjoy the day also. As
soon as Tye hits the door she heads for the kitchen and volunteers her
impeccable services as the family food taster. Her specialties are
the mashed potatoes, giblet gravy and the desert of the day. She has
performed that duty religiously for the family since she began
walking. Mama and Dorey would have a stool by the kitchen counter
waiting for her to arrive. She also helped make the dough for the
biscuits and loved it. She would pat and roll and pat and roll until
there was no way that bread would ever rise again. Then with flour
covering her from head to toe, she would make a special tiny biscuit
for each of us. Some even came with a nose and ears. I wouldn't be
surprised if her daddy hasn't saved all of his special biscuits in
their refrigerator all these years.
By this time, Wendy, Tigger, Boots, and I have been inhaling the
tantalizing odors emitted by the food for hours and hours and our
tongues have almost flapped our brains out. The glass in the back
door is covered with nose prints and slobber, Wendy's tail is wagging
at about 1,600rpm, and the cats have been trampled more than once, but
are still hanging in there. If nothing else, they are persistent
little puffs of fur when the situation demands it. Otherwise our
presence is pretty much a hohum event and not worthy of their
attention.
Finally, the meal is ready and everyone takes their 'traditional'
place at the table. We all hold hands and someone says the blessing,
hopefully Tye because she takes mercy on her Uncle Don and has
developed a blessing that is beautifully brief. After which Uncle Don
gets a sly smile and a knowing wink.
Then the feast begins and all is well in our little holler. Here's a
wish for a Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours from us and ours.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING FOLKS!
2001
Don "Val" Valentine
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