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?
