Thanks

It's Thanksgiving.

Which means that even though we are going to my sister's home today for dinner, I have been up since 5:30am, wrestled a minimum 14 pound turkey from its briny soak into the sink, washed it, patted it dry, oiled it and gently placed it into the World's Largest Roasting pan, gently tucking turkey's wings under that gross piece of skin at the neck opening and sliding it into a pleasantly warmed oven. Because it HAS to smell like Thanksgiving when everyone wakes up.

The cat is now guarding the oven door.

I got this.

 I don't think either of our children got such 5-star treatment at bedtime...

This is my favorite holiday.

No pressure with gifts, no blazing hot BBQs, no random forgotten dyed eggs escaping discovery...

Only food and family and sometimes extra friends.

Oh yes, and thankfulness.

The fact that there should be one day set aside to be 'thankful' seems rather wrong. Oh sure, since the advent of social media the #BLESSED flies around willy-nilly, proclaiming blessedness over all things large and small. But with such constant blessings over co-workers, great kids, a steal on boots are we really truly thankful?

Or are we semi-taunting others with our good fortune?

Lets face it, it has been a rough year here in the good ole US of A.

Political and social unrest, terrorist acts, natural disasters.

There are those who would question the ability to feel thankful for anything.

But I am that Half Glass Full sort of person and while I do feel the #Blessed is way over-used, I will admit, I am thankful every single day.

It helps that I work in an environment that reminds me every minute of my shift that there is someone out there less fortunate than I.

Which is why I will never complain about that 5:30am wake up call to bake a giant poultry.

Besides, I wouldn't want to know what Joey would do if there were no turkey....

He has been sitting in the kitchen since 6am. I am hoping he is thankful for his warm home and his people. I fear he is only thankful for turkey.

Wishing each of you a Thanksgiving full of many large and small #Blessings.

Eat all you want, take a walk, drive safely, pass on your good tidings and do not forget to feed the cat.

Happy Thanksgiving from the Coast of Illinois!

Gobble Gobble

I interrupt the previous plan of more Florida Keys Exploits to wish everyone- no matter where-a very Happy Thanksgiving!! 

Take a moment or two to reflect on those people you have in your life and keep them close. Enjoy what you have and help out someone who might need a boost! 

From the Coast of Illinois to your particular harbor: 

Happy Thanksgiving!!

Come back this weekend when Coast of Illinois returns to the Florida Keys: the Bloodline tour!!

Three Little Birds...and a squirrel, if you look real close

It is early on Thanksgiving morning. Just me and the cat...and a 13 pound turkey which is just beginning to sizzle in the oven. Nothing says Happy Thanksgiving like sticking your hand up the freezing cold body cavity of a 13 pound semi-flightless fowl. 

Not quite done yet...

Thanksgiving has long been my favorite of the winter holidays. And Thanksgiving morning is one of my favorite mornings. I am usually the only human up early, the rest taking a few extra hours to rest up for the big food and Home Alone marathon.

The quiet gives me a chance to reflect on all those things I have to be thankful for: home, health, family.

Yada Yada Yada

This year, however, while still thankful for these things, recent events have put a new spin on them, at least in my head.

My 'home' has always been the Midwest. I grew up in a farming community surrounded by men in overalls and feed caps and women who simultaneously baked pies and crocheted tablecloths. These men and women also called the Midwest home. But for many of their parents Cornfield, Illinois was not the first 'home' they knew. In my case, Germany and France and England's Ireland were home. Those people made the decision to leave lands where their families remained, where the language was familiar, to make the difficult crossing by sea, some with infants and small children, to an unknown country with only the promises made on a copper and iron statue.

I do not know if they left because they were under persecution, feared for the lives of their children. I can only assume that they took that frightening voyage after much deliberation in hopes of providing a better life.

They came here, worked hard, settled into and became part of permanent communities and now their descendants call this land home.

Thank you, not only to those who took that brave step, but to those who welcomed them.

These guys are not all that Thankful. In fact, they are rethinking the whole immigration policy.

I work in healthcare. So in a way, I have to feel thankful for everyone's health...or lack thereof. Every day I work, I care for people experiencing health events which I mentally add to the list of things I NEVER want to experience myself.

Thank you?

This motivation to avoid tubes sticking out of natural and man made orifices has led me, most days, to eat better and exercise.

Not today of course.

But tomorrow...

Today my immediate family will be gathering at our house for dinner. We are missing a few very loved members, who thankfully are safe and sound with family elsewhere. But this is not the family I am speaking of today.

Today I am speaking to my work family – you know who you are. If you break it down, some weeks we spend more time with work people than with blood relations. And just like blood relations, work people are fun, annoying, aggravating and wonderful. They can be broken down into little brother, big sister, weird aunt and creepy uncle status.

We have differing opinions and different working styles.

But when things go south we are there for one another. And over the nearly 10 years I have worked with this family things have gone south, really south quite a few times.

And things went south one morning this past week. Like nearly South Pole South. I can't really go into the actual event except to say that at present everyone is okay and this is one of those things that is HIGH on my list of THINGS I NEVER WANT TO HAPPEN TO ME.

And as often happens, it is when things are truly bad that you see the best in people. The outpouring of support for my work family has been overwhelming.

We are all guilty of gripping about work, not wanting to go, not wanting to stay, wishing we were anywhere else.

But damn it.

Now I don't think I could go anywhere else.

Thank you. 

One of my peaceful places. Sure, there are actually four little birds here, but there is also a squirrel. It is really difficult to rhyme anything with 'squirrel' which is why Mr. Marley most likely stuck with the simpler 'three little birds' concept.

I chose to call this post Three Little Birds. It is one of my favorite songs and even though it is a simple concept, it is a powerful one.

From the Coast of Illinois

Have a safe and Happy Thanksgiving. 

Come back next week for a new installment of

TALES FROM THE CARIBBEAN...JAMAICA EDITION

Thanksgiving PS

Turkey. Sweet potatoes. Brussel Sprouts. Green beans. Cranberries-real and canned. Gravy. Corn casserole.

Plus:

Hash brown casserole. Hawaiian King rolls. Shrimp Dip. Stuffing. Pie. Whip Cream. A gigantic plate of homemade candies, (six varieties).

That is a lot of food for nine people.

And in the end, there is:

Nine dinner plates.

Nine dessert plates.

Twelve glasses.

Five wine glasses.

Two roasting pans.

Three pots.

One dutch oven.

Three crocks.

Plus:

serving utensils and knifes, forks and spoons.

That is a whole lot of dishes for nine people.

And I do not have a dish washer.

I prefer to clean up alone. I always have numerous offers to help but the biggest reason I don't have a dishwasher is the fact that I have a very tiny kitchen. There is no room for a dishwasher. Which means very little room for helpers.

I have clean up down to a science. And in forty-five minutes the above list was packaged, washed up and and almost completely put away.

(I let the glassware and the big pots drain overnight. I am not completely insane.)

My sister, her fiance, my nephew and our parents went home. Bart and our kids were in the front room, laughing as they watched the completely holiday inappropriate It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. I took up my station at the sink and let my mind wander.

Washing dishes is almost as good for creative thinking as showering and driving.

It occurred to me, as I hefted the first enormous crock into the sudsy water, that the reason I don't mind doing the dishes is the fact that I grew up in a house of dish-doers. Which took me back to the many holidays in my Mother's and Grandmother's kitchens. The head of the respective house washed and we peons dried. Sometimes it was just my sister and me. When we were younger it was a variety of Aunts. The women chatted and we kids kept our mouths shut and gleaned tidbits of gossip about who dried her noodles in the clothes dryer, and whose mother dressed him as a girl when he was a young child.

I studied the various pots and pans:

             my Great-Grandmother's china

  Grossmutter. She liked to pinch. Hard. But I was little, I am sure she was a lovely person.

        Grandma S's crocks
the Pampered Chef roaster from my Mom
the Big Blue Roaster from my Sister-in-law

Grandma S cooked all the time. Except when she was a nurse. I clearly reaped the benefit of my Mom's Pampered Chef addiction, these are probably the best products out there. That roaster was a wedding present. At the time, I never imagined I would use something so enormous.

        the dutch oven from my son

This was the first Christmas present my son bought be all on his own. It is so heavy. Some day I will have to hire people to lift it for me and then I will pass it on to one of his, as yet nonexistent, children.

 the wine glasses from a dear friend

Look! We haven't broken a single one...yet...And oh my, the stories they could tell...

I have been doing a disservice to the kids in my family. How can they ever pass down all those fabulous tidbits of everyday minutia if they aren't in here drying and stacking and wishing they were the ones washing?

Guess what kids.

Next year there will be towels with YOUR names on them.

Gooble Gooble!

It's that time of year again...

Time to over-stuff the fridge.

 

Never complain that the fridge is too full!

Time to torture non-sprout people with Brussels sprouts.

When did these become the gold standard of holiday veggies?

Time to perfume the house with the delicious smell of roasted turkey.

Ah the majestic bird. You have done your brothers in semi-flightness proud.

Time to gather the fam together and say Thanks!

Turkey coma. The real cause of zombie-ism,

Happy Thanksgiving from the Coast of Illinois!

Show me a more beautiful skyline.

Come back next week for a new installment of Coast of Illinois hits the road!

And don't forget the sprouts!

*On a local note: many events in this Coastal area have been on the news. I am proud to call myself a St. Louisan. Please, do not let the actions of a few influence your opinion of our wonderful town. Ultimately, we all want the same thing - a peaceful, productive and equal place to live. That world is possible but violence is not the way to achieve this. Treat others the way you expect to be treated. You might be surprised at how much you can accomplish.

This Post Brought to You by the National Brussel Sprout Institute

Happy Thanksgiving from the Coast of Illinois!

I have been rather stumped when it came to writing this update. I could fall in and give a list of things I am thankful for but frankly, I have lived a very charmed life and there just isn't the space.

At present I am sitting here in the kitchen surrounded by three pounds of cranberry sauce, five pounds of candied sweet potatoes and no less than one hundred Brussel Sprouts, watching Gone With the Wind and trying to explain to Bart why I have spent the entire day cooking when we aren't even hosting dinner this year. (There is also a twelve pound turkey unthawing in my Tupperware cake cozy. But he doesn't need to know.)

Actually, the answer to his question is easy. Even though we are going to my sister's for dinner, this house MUST smell and feel like Thanksgiving on Thursday morning by 8am. This means a turkey in the oven and Al Roker hanging with the Snoopy balloon at Harold Square.

It also means Brussel Sprouts sauteed with bacon and watching every single Thanksgiving episode of Friends. This cabbage and sitcom frenzy culminates in the ultimate Thanksgiving episode of all time: WKRP in Cincinnati. You know the one I mean – where Arthur Carlson and Herb Tarlick throw LIVE turkeys out of an airplane. And they fall from the sky like bags of wet cement as Les Nesman reports, "Oh! The Humanity!" And then The Big Guy says, "As God is my witness, I thought Turkeys could fly." 

I do not think Scarlet would approve.

But honestly, one single day of giving thanks really just isn't enough.

So I will leave it at this:

May you have a Fridge so full that it takes two arms and a foot to close it, a Home which is warm in winter and cool in summer and the knowledge that you are Loved, by someone, somewhere.

And I will also leave you with this:

Two pictures of Brussel Sprouts. Because...THANKSGIVING!

Sprouts in the Hot Tub!

Brussel Sprouts in their Natural Habitat - sauteed with bacon.

Hello? Most Ridiculous Complaint Department?

I am a TurkeyDay Prepper. For the past eight hours I have been systematically chopping, baking, sauteing, pre-blending, displacement measuring and brining. All in preparation for a day of thanks. As I was stuffing the last plastic container of turkey broth gravy base into the fridge I uttered the Most Ridiculous Complaint ever uttered.

"There is too much food in this refrigerator."

As the twelve pounds of cranberry sauce slid to the left, providing a domino effect of open space between the brussel sprouts with bacon and the three gallons of whipping cream, it occurred to me that having 'too much food' was possibly the Most Ridiculous thing to complain about. Ever.

It ranks right up there with "there are too many people coming for dinner" and "this stupid huge house is a pain to clean".

Perhaps if we looked at these Most Ridiculous Complaints in a mirror we might spend more than one day a year purposely giving thanks. 

Wait! I think there's a spot between the water pitcher and the OJ

Happy Thanksgiving from the Coast of Illinois! May you have a year full of Most Ridiculous Complaints and not a single serious or sad one.