I woke up this morning with cooking on my mind. That's right. It's Wednesday, November 23, 2016, and I'm getting ready to get ready to help prepare some of the wife's specialties for our planned feast tomorrow. My wife tells everyone that I know my way around the kitchen. I'm not exactly sure exactly what all that entails but I know enough to be able to throw together a meal if I am called on to do so. We have our own legacy when it comes to homemade cornbread dressing. My wife can hold her own but she does so in the shadow of my family's legendary cooks, Granny Mac, and my Mom. Now it will be my turn to prepare this special dish. No need to fear. I will be working under the close supervision of my recovering life partner, referred to in the British TV comedy, 'Rumpole of the Bailey' as, "She who must be obeyed", abbreviated, 'SWMBO'. I can't remember if she ever bought a t-shirt with that sentiment inscribed but between her and our wonderful neighbor Ruth, they did kind of run that one into the ground. The good news is that I don't have to go out to the chicken yard and round up the hens. The hens are used for both the dressing and the homemade dumplings. Two of them are already processed and in the cooler. She picked them up when she and her sister ventured out on Monday. Yep. You can tell by the photo. She is better. (Or, maybe she had taken a couple of extra pain pills.) That's her learning how to steer that motorized cart. She didn't hit anyone but her sister was there to warn other shoppers that an inexperienced driver was on board.
We have some grueling schedules to keep in December in support of the Santa Enterprise. I mentioned to SWMBO that if it comes down to it and she is unable to fulfill her duties as Mrs. Claus, that perhaps I can find out who the young blonde lady is that played the elf at the Junior League event, and she might be able to accompany me. To that, she had an immediate response. Seeing the look on her face made me quickly add that I was only joking. I was. I really was. I mean it. It was only a joke. She informed me that better be the case. Sometimes my funny anecdotes miss the mark. The first real test comes next week, the first weekend in December. We have an always meltdown busy three-hour evening scheduled for the 2nd, an all day in the studio session on the 3rd, an outdoor reception on the evening of the 4th, and on the 5th we make photos with some dear folks at the special needs apartments where our local fellowship has a ministry. Hopefully, we can do it in a way that avoids any potential for her to aggravate or reinjure her back. That will be the plan.
I know many people will be traveling today to visit loved ones in far-flung places. That instinct is part of the Thanksgiving spirit where we desire to connect with those who mean so much to us. I can't help but remember the smells of Thanksgiving. Walking through the back door at Granny Mac's. Walking through the back door at my mom's place. Coming into the house of my wife's mom. Our place has also continued to provide those wonderful smells. Yep. I am a sucker for stuff like that. It's the reason I used that title for today's edition. The holidays tend to put my sensory perceptions into overdrive. Pots of all descriptions moving ever so slightly to the heat of the burner beneath. Steam rising from the oven and from this, that, or the other. It really was invigorating, and contagious. And, it did remind us of how thankful we should be to be able to enjoy such times of family and fellowship. Memory making at its best. Kids everywhere, running here and there, the men standing around, drinking their coffee and telling their tales. The ladies laughing as they helped in the kitchen. You are so right. I am a sucker for it all. Some would call this trite and the stuff for simpletons. That's okay with me. I say thanks for the compliment. And, most important of all, thanks be to God for His blessings which include our memories of family gatherings near and far. Be safe and may God add His blessings to us all. Amen. ....More later.
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