I want to wish everyone a happy Thanksgiving today, even though it's a little early...This time tomorrow, Siobhan, Liam, and I will be having our own private Thanksgiving celebration, held in a secret spot,well- hidden, deep in a secluded location. Probably under assumed names. Possibly wearing false mustaches.
Why the secrecy, you ask? Have you forgotten the last time we hosted a family Thanksgiving dinner--- or in our case, The Family Freak Show Feast?! Perhaps I need to jog your memory a little...
For those of you not familiar with this particular holiday, Thanksgiving is celebrated in the U.S. on the 4th Thursday of November. (Apparently our forefathers couldn't agree on an actual calendar date--like the 17th, or the 24th.) Early Pilgrim settlers held the first Thanksgiving feast to give thanks for having survived one year in a new land. They were mostly thankful for not perishing from starvation or disease, or being murdered in their sleep by the natives...(Later on, to show their gratitude, the same settlers massacred the natives and took their land. Go figure.)
Over the years, Thanksgiving has evolved into a day of football games and televised parades, as well as the traditional stuff-yourself-feast with family and friends. Or in our case, The Freak Show...
Traditionally Siobhan and I host Thanksgiving dinner here at Just 2 Gypsies Farm. We do all of the cooking, but occasionally some of the Freak Show will volunteer to bring a casserole of some sort, or a dessert. Each year Siobhan and I take great pains to have the house and barn sparkling clean (Mama is a neat freak), and all the leaves raked from the back garden ( Saphrona chain-smokes). We even bathe our dogs!
Siobhan and I carefully plan our menu...We roast our turkey under a clean lard bucket in our garden; we bake herb and cornbread dressing in a cast iron skillet over the fire pit. We prepare the other dishes indoors--green bean casserole, sweet potato casserole, mashed potatoes, creamed corn; deviled eggs, cranberry salad, caramelized root vegetables, yeast rolls. Pumpkin pie, sweet potato pie, pecan pie; and for something a little different this year, two dozen specially made pumpkin and cream cheese cupcakes...
It is 11:55; Siobhan and I are right on schedule. The tables are set with sparkling china and silverware; Siobhan's fresh flowers and folded napkins add just the right touch. The side table and counter tops all groan with their load of food. The blend of aromas wafting from the kitchen is heavenly...
Now it's 12:00--High Noon---the time Mama decreed we should eat; everything is ready, and The Freak Show has not arrived yet. And so we wait...
At 12:07, Mama bustles in with my sweet father in tow. She is carrying an enormous box of cupcakes, beautifully decorated by a local bakery, and completely unexpected by the menu planners (Siobhan and me). As usual, Mama is complaining about the weather, the traffic, and how it's all my father's fault that she's late ( 7 minutes-- big deal.) Suddenly Mama spots Siobhan's cupcakes. "WHERE DID YOU GET THOSE CUPCAKES? NOBODY TOLD ME YOU WERE HAVING CUPCAKES!!" And Mama flounces angrily into the living room. Dad meekly follows. Siobhan makes room for Mama's cupcakes on the side table, and we all sit down. Again we wait...
At 12:12, Uncle Patrick and Aunt Leona come in; Aunt Leona is carrying a huge platter of cupcakes, supplied by her neighborhood bakery (again, totally unexpected by the menu planners!). Aunt Leona and Mama glare at the cupcakes and glare at each other; Mama immediately goes outside. Aunt Leona pouts; she and Uncle Patrick sit in silence. Siobhan looks around helplessly for a place to put the newest cupcakes; finally she gives up and sits them on the stove top. We continue to wait...
At 12:18, my extremely pregnant cousin Lavinia breezes in, her husband Julio and their two little boys in tow. She is breathless from hurrying, and apologetic for being late. She hands me a large white box with --you guessed it!--two dozen cupcakes inside. Speechless, I hand them to Siobhan...She doesn't even look at the kitchen. With a glazed look in her eye, Siobhan takes them directly to the laundry room and plops them down on top of the dryer.
At 12:20, my brother Eamon stomps in, with Mama hot on his heels. He hands me a bag of buns and 2 lbs. of ground beef. Puzzled, I ask "What is this for?" Freak Boy tells me that he's not in the mood for turkey; he brought uncooked ground beef so I could grill hamburgers for him. (Yep--you read that right. He brought it late, and he brought it for ME to grill!) Eamon heads for the TV, and Mama tells me "Don' t dare upset him! Go on and get out the grill--we can't eat until your sister gets here anyway!!" Then Mama marches off to sit with her pet Eamon , and they all continue waiting...
Meanwhile, Siobhan rolls her eyes and heads outside with a bag of charcoal. I meet her in the back garden, where we hastily build a fire that would make any arsonist proud. Ten minutes later, with the charcoal still blazing, we throw Eamon's slapped-together, misshapen hamburger patties on the grill. While the burgers are burning, Siobhan and I sit down and WE wait ...
It is now 12:45; Eamon's burgers are thoroughly blackened, and Siobhan and I are back in the kitchen. Now in dead silence we ALL wait...
It is 1:10, and miraculously Saphrona finally rolls in-- 1 hour and 10 minutes late, and making no apologies to anyone. She is dressed up like a dog's dinner in her turquoise leopard print sheer top, black lace camisole, and rhinestone-encrusted jeans with fringe from hip to ankle, and random placed holes. On her feet are glittery purple high-top tennis shoes with wedge heels; her purse is large enough to hide a pizza pan in, and is covered with guinea feathers. (I kid you not. Our dogs go wild and try to attack it...) A dozen gold bracelets hang on each arm, and more chains than I can count are around her neck. (Remember Mr. T?) Her black feather earrings don't look too bad--mostly because they blend in with her leopard-spotted black and blond hair...
When I can finally tear my eyes away from Saphrona's normal-for-her attire, I see that she is carrying a large paper bag, and is heading straight for me. With ominous forebodings I ask "what is this?" Saphrona replies "It's corn--I think it would be nice if you cook some for Thanksgiving dinner." (Again late, and again with the "YOU cook!") Saphrona is 56 years old...This is the first time she has ever brought food of any kind to a family gathering. Mama beams at her firstborn daughter, then harshly tells me to hurry up and cook the corn so Saphrona won't feel bad. Siobhan and I look in the bag, and the corn hasn't even been shucked...
By this time, dinner has been cooling for 1 hour and 18 minutes. Siobhan and I are starving, we have a roomful of hungry people not talking to each other, and my own patience is wearing thin. (That's putting it mildly--I feel like steam is coming from my ears!) I look at Siobhan, and see that she feels the same. So we defy Mama. We dig our heels in and absolutely refuse to shuck that damned corn. So much for manners. Forget "southern hospitality". We tell the Freak Show that dinner is served NOW--if you want any food, get to the table.
In single file, we fill our plates with now-cold food, and wait in line at the microwave. Finally we all sit down at the table and give thanks for our very late Thanksgiving dinner...Between bites, Mama and Aunt Leona glare at one another and alternately squawk at their husbands. Dad and Uncle Patrick keep their heads down and humbly take the abuse. Lavinia referees between her boys, and Julio wishes he was still in Puerto Rico. Eamon is dark as a thundercloud because his new girlfriend isn't here. Too bad she couldn't come; she would have fit right in with The Freak Show, being a midget and all. (Just kidding, folks--she's at least 4' 5".) My loony sister Saphrona is lit up like a Christmas tree, talking gibberish about God-knows-what as she pops a handful of pain pills into her mouth...(It may be mumbo-jumbo, but it sounds suspiciously like "I gotta find a way to scam me up some money!") We all pretend we didn't hear...
I look around the table at our strange assortment of relatives and I smile. With our Freak Show, I'm thankful that Thanksgiving only comes once a year. Siobhan looks around the table and she smiles. With our Freak Show gene pool, she's thankful she can even tie her shoes...
Happy Thanksgiving to you all. Cupcake, anyone?
