Happy Turkey Day!

Talk about it

Abby Gonko, Crestview Elementary School second-grade teacher, is a very creative person. She gave her students a writing assignment about a quandary. “You are a turkey just before Thanksgiving. How are you planning to escape?”

“I would disguise myself as a dish of sweet potatoes with marshmallows that nobody wants to eat,” said daughter Margie.

The holiday season at the end of the year is a time to celebrate with family and friends, but real life inserts itself in spite of our best intentions.

Tell the truth. I want to see a show of hands if you love sweet potatoes, from a can, laced with brown sugar and topped with marshmallows.

I thought so. That’s why the Food Network has so many shows that feature ways to use leftover sweet potatoes.

Friend Ruth has terrible memories of Thanksgiving mainly due to her mother’s cooking a 15-pound turkey for 12 hours.

I thought Ruth might have exaggerated but discovered for myself that every word was true after Ruth and I spent several days with her parents. I can tell the story now because her mother passed several years ago.

Shortly after we arrived, she served us a meatloaf dinner. “You can’t screw up meatloaf,” I said to myself.

Yes, you can and Lillian did. If you overwork the meat, it resembles a tire patch after baking.

The following afternoon, Lil mentioned that she was going to fix chicken for dinner. I remembered that Ruth had said something about pouring a can of tomato soup over it. I had to think fast.

“I won’t hear of it,” I said. “You waited on us last night. You just put your feet up and rest. I’ll cook dinner.”

Roasted chicken was served with homemade gravy and mashed potatoes made from scratch.

I was not able to intercept breakfast the next morning.

Ruth and I planned to leave after breakfast and Lil wanted to make sure we had a hearty meal.

It was hearty all right. Heartburn would be a better description of how we felt after we left.

Directions on most packages of pancake mix warn you not to overmix, stirring only enough to blend the ingredients.

Lil broke all land and speed records for stirring. I watched with dread as she put them on plates for us. After we left, lots of Tums were the only antidote.

My memories of Thanksgiving include eating marshmallows only. Yup, I sliced them right off the top.

When I was a lass, shortly after the Spanish-American War, it seemed as if my mother, aunt and grandmother magically produced food we never ate at any other time of the year such as turkey, cranberries and pumpkin pie

My aunt made mince pie too, one of my favorites. I don’t make it because only friend Ruth and I like it.

“Why don’t you make it anyway?” asked husband Gary, after we talked about the Thanksgiving menu.

“I think I will,” I said. “I think I’ll also make that cranberry gelatin mold you don’t like.”

“We’ll dedicate it the fact that Ruth doesn’t have to eat her mother’s Thanksgiving cooking,” I said.

Judy Spooner can be reached at editor@swcbulletin.com.

Tags: crestview_elementary_school, abbygonko, judyspooner, opinion