Almost Thanksgiving

                                                               

    It’s almost Thanksgiving.  And it is, by far, one that I truly celebrate and enjoy.  The fall season has literally flown by.  I’ve been enjoying the cloudy skies, a different shade of gray from rain clouds.  That kind of fall cloud that invites you to take a walk outside and embrace the day.  That kind of day that begins just a little chilly, has a warm afternoon, and ends with a cool evening that requires a jacket or sweater, at least in South Central Texas. 

     For several weeks, I’ve been thinking about what Thanksgiving means to me.  And the time I’ve spent thinking about it has filled my heart with joy, sadness, excitement, peace and a feeling of true thanks.  Halloween was just a few weeks ago and Christmas decorations have been sighted in all the stores and businesses for weeks.  One is starting to see more Thanksgiving decorations than in the past.  There are beautiful dinner sets, napkins, candles, garlands, linens, even colored lights.  Growing up, there wasn’t much Thanksgiving décor to choose from except for pumpkins, scarecrows and Indian corn wreaths for the front door.  I enjoy decorating a fall tree in the house and every room has colorful autumnal décor.

    Our family would always wait to have Thanksgiving dinner after the local high school football game on Thanksgiving Day.  My alma mater, Spring-Ford High School always played Boyertown High School.  Dad was the band announcer for Spring-Ford’s band.  So we would eat after the game was over and Dad had returned, usually around 1pm.  Of course Dad was at the head of the table, and the rest of the family, including Mom, my sisters, Eileen and Kathy, Nana James and Dad’s cousin and my favorite, Aunt Florence, would complete the table.  As the family expanded with husbands and grandchildren, my workload as designated family dishwasher increased.  One year as Dad gave his usual blessing, “Bless this food and the hands that prepared it,” I chimed in, “And bless the hands that clean it up!”  There wasn’t a dry eye at the table, we all laughed so hard.  But I was serious! 

    We didn’t “stuff” the bird; Nana James made mashed potato “filling” which was really mashed potatoes, with extra ingredients, then baked – yum!  It tasted better the second and third times.  Mom always made the best cherry pies.  But we could also choose from apple or pumpkin.  Back then, we had the basic pies, not elaborate choices like the kinds you can find at the supermarket today. 

    It’s almost Thanksgiving, and as I am preparing for the Thanksgiving feast we’ll share with friends, I think of my Dad. He has been gone for 20 years, but I think about him every day.  He was my hero, my role model, my mentor and my friend.  Even though he is gone, there will always be a place at my Thanksgiving table for him, time and time again, at least in my heart.

Starters

When I was a little girl, and would eat at a restaurant with my paternal Grandmother, my “Nana James”, she would always say, “For starters, I’ll have…..”.  She would then proceed to tell the waiter or waitress what she would like to eat prior to the entrée.  I thought this quite a normal practice and followed her guide.  As I grew into my teen years and even later as a single adult eating out with friends,  I would be handed a menu and tell the server “For starters” I’ll have”…..

Most of the time the servers didn’t question what I was saying, but many of my friends did.  What do you mean, for starters?  Don’t you mean, appetizers, they’d ask?  Well, I was used to hearing my Nana and my family say “starters”, so that was the norm for me.

When I moved away from home to continue my career, I continued the habit and it just stuck.  Sometimes I’d dine in a faux English pub and voila!  There would be the word I was searching for – “Starters”, not Appetizers, not “Hors D’oeurves”.  Starters.  Of course, in the US, these were not “real” English restaurants, usually just part of a chain, but it still made me feel better.

Then two things happened that gave me satisfaction.  Validation, even.  First, when I retired from the federal government after 35 ½ years of service, my husband Jay and I and another couple traveled to the United Kingdom on an 18 day tour of England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales.  For a small town girl, this was a chance of a lifetime and a dream come true.  Not only would I get to see many places that I had read about in literature, history or geography, but I would get to walk through the cathedral where Princess Diana had walked in her wedding procession. 

On the first night of our tour, we were in London.  We were told not to fall asleep or jet lag would consume us and we would be miserable for the rest of the tour.  A bus tour of London took up much of the afternoon.  After dinner we stopped for a glass of wine (or beer for the husbands) at an old English pub. A real English pub.  Perusing the menu, what did my eyes first see at the top of the menu but “STARTERS”!  At last!  The British did use that term for appetizers.  Validation!  Not appetizers, not hors d’oeurvers, starters!  Whoo hoo!

Second, I have been researching my Father’s family ancestry and recently discovered that my Nana’s first husband came from England, so he was a British citizen.  Get the picture?  That’s where she learned to say starters and some of the other interesting expressions she used.  More on those another time. 

So I’ll end my first  blog in the hope that you enjoyed why I say what I do when I dine out and will probably never change.  It’s a part of me.  Starters, appetizers, hors d’oeurves, they all mean the same, but time and time again, for me, it’s starters.