Love, Jimmie

Did everyone have a nice Thanksgiving holiday?  Is everyone still stuffed?  Is anyone contemplating learning how to sew so that you can move your buttons on your pants slightly further apart so that you no longer cut yourself in two at the waist?  Yeah, me too. 

We always have a lot of food and a lot of family on this holiday. This year we got Daddy-O and JiJi, pumpkin cheesecake, marshmallow salad and other assorted casseroles.  Ooh, and homemade cinnamon rolls.  It was awesome.  My job was to bring Brussels sprouts and the ham.  Because my job was to bring the Brussels sprouts, I got a note from my niece, Pooh.  It read:   

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Dear Aunt Jimmie –  

I hope you have a nice Thanksgiving.

Love, 

Pooh.

P.S.  Please don’t bring the brussel sprouts. 

I love you. 

I also got a text from Martie that said, Our meal is going to be so completely yellow, except for the Brussels sprouts.  I’m so country. 

Oh, the stuff memories are made of . . .

I might have mentioned once that all our winter holidays include not only eating until vital organs burst but also killing large animals like deer and squirrels.  And again, oh the stuff memories are made of . . . . 

Thanksgiving Memory # 1, when Jimmie, Martie, Bear, and Boo were still little

“Kids, Madre and I are going hunting.  We won’t eat until we get back.  Find something to amuse yourselves while we are gone.”  And then we sat around and stared at each other for hours until the parents got home.  Gah, it was boring and the way we amused ourselves back then was to hurt each other.  Ah, good times.   

Thanksgiving Memory # 2, when Bear and Boo were older and more responsible and had guns of their own 

“Girls, Madre and your brothers and I are going hunting. We won’t eat until we get back.  Don’t burn down the house while we are gone.”  Ha ha!  Martie and I had learned a trick from a previous winter holiday!  We stayed in our pajamas and ate giant Hershey’s kisses and listened to Michael Jackson’s Thriller album all day long.  Not boring! 

Thanksgiving Memory # 3, # 4, # 5 and also Christmas Memory # 1, # 2, and # 3 ad infinitum, when Jimmie and Martie were old enough to cook an entire meal unsupervised.

“Girls, we can’t have the Thanksgiving meal until we get back from hunting.  See you this afternoon.  Happy cooking.  Ingredients are in the fridge.”  (Simply exchange “can’t have the Thanksgiving meal” with any phrase you choose pertaining to fun stuff kids want to do like “open any Christmas presents” or “see what Santa brought” and viola – another memory!)   

Deer Hunting Memory, # 1, when Coach got involved with the family.

Says Coach, “I spent all this time getting ready to go hunting.  I was up long before dawn, dressed from head to toe in camouflage, got in the truck and drove over to Poppa’s house, situated myself in the tree stand so as to maximize comfort and alertness, and then waited and waited and waited for hours and hours and hours.  Poppa walked out his back door, strolled to the tree stand, sat down, just got comfortable, and then BLAM!  Five minutes later, he killed a deer.”  I think Coach cried a little when he told this story. 

Deer Hunting Memory # 2, Phranke’s story

Says Phranke, “I remember the day Daddy walked out onto the front porch in his orange towel skirt and pleather slippers and shot a twelve point buck in the front yard.”  I think Coach cried a little when he heard this story. 

Thanksgiving Memory #  . . .  Wait, I’m lost on the numbers.  I have no idea.  BUT!  It is another recurring memory which Martie and I lament every year.

“Kids, on the menu for Thanksgiving this year is dressing, corn casserole, green beans, cranberry sauce, macaroni and cheese, sweet potatoes and a nice venison roast.”  (Here you simply exchange “nice venison roast” with “nice bear butt roast” or “nice lamb roast” or some other such nonsense to make a new memory.  Do you see how turkey is never on the menu?  Yeah, me too.)  Can’t we just have a turkey like the rest of America, just once?  Martie and I got smart and put our foots down and now we have turkey every year.  Also, a nice leg of lamb.   

Finally, despite the dressing in camouflage from head to toe, driving to a deer stand, setting up shop to maximize comfort and alertness and waiting and waiting and waiting for hours and hours and hours, Coach and Daddy-O made no new memories that involved actually killing a large animal like a deer or squirrel, unfortunately.  However, I made new memories this year.  Phranke and I drove to our home town together, a town that is this ( ) big.  Along the way, we took pictures of things that epitomize the feeling of our town that is this ( ) big.

For your viewing pleasure:

Moo?

Baa?

 

I have no idea what a guinea says.

 

My makeover, courtesy of Tigger