Nothing political invaded the peaceful nature around our Thanksgiving table this year. Nobody said impeachment or Pelosi, Schiff or Trump. Not one person alluded to the Hill or the White House. No one said, “I’ll be so glad when Congress reconvenes so the House and the Senate can get on with their work for the people. Our representatives are so dedicated.” Not even one.
Instead, we talked about how good the food was, especially the dressing and gravy. We talked about how tall the boys are growing, and they pointed out how short the rest of us have gotten. Oh, and the pecan pie with the flaky homemade crust—now we talked about that and the possibility of one of those pies going back with the Atlanta crew. It would be a real shame if Larry and I had to try to eat all those leftovers by ourselves. Maybe a pumpkin pie could go, too, since I made so many. If any dressing were left over, maybe Will could take a small bowl of it with him—actually, a large bowl would be better since his brothers would insist on sharing.
“Well, there won’t be any leftover rolls,” Will announced, as he stuffed the last one in his mouth. “I’d like to take some broccoli casserole though, Grandma. It’s so delicious.”
Actually, we talked a lot about the quality and quantity of the food. They spoke longingly of the thin layer chocolate cake they’d finished off the day after they arrived. The last piece of blackberry cheesecake had served as someone’s breakfast on Wednesday morning. We all agreed that we had much to be thankful for, even besides the food, but it was a highlight on Thanksgiving Day.
After dinner (that’s the mid-day meal here in the south), the males went out back to the edge of the woods to shoot the guns for a while. The noise spoke loudly of that activity, but I’m thankful we live out in the backwoods so they can safely go outside to shoot at targets. All the males in the house from Grandpa Larry on down to the youngest grandson, Will, enjoyed the shooting. Mind you, we aren’t particularly sexist. Any of the females could have joined in the shooting too had we wanted to, but we opted out. We had far better things to do.
Nobody argued over democratic or republican woes, even though we have some of each persuasion in the family. We did have a bit of black/white tension though. Our black lab, Charlie, and Calvin’s white American bulldog, Dixie, do not get along at all. No logical reason exists for their mutual animosity. They just see each other, fire flashes from their eyes, and before we can intervene, they’re fighting. They had several spats while she was here visiting. She left with several scratches on her face. Charlie may have some minor injuries too, but his fur is so thick and so black that we can’t see any. Anyway, distance solved that problem when Calvin’s family took Dixie home to Atlanta. If it were only that easy with our governing bodies, we could put the House in Seattle, Washington, the Senate somewhere in South Carolina, and leave the President in Washington. I wish.
We were all thankful to be together under the same roof. Several raucous card games--Rummy, Poker, Uno--took place at the kitchen table at night, sometimes into the wee hours. The boys got really loud when Josh won a game. Shouts of laughter rang throughout the house, which was fine since nobody was trying to sleep anyway. We Ellises are a nocturnal clan and enjoy sleeping in the next morning. I wish our dogs slept in, too.
I admit I had thought occasionally about a political argument disrupting the peace during the holiday, and looking back, I’m thankful that didn’t happen. About the closest thing we had to a political discussion was about whether 15-year-old Jakey needed a haircut or not.
All in all, Thanksgiving was a wonderful affair this year. For that I am truly thankful. It was so good to have them home.