©Scott Sines
Teresa and I woke up smiling this morning. Yesterday was a memorable Thanksgiving on Wentworth Lane. The New Orleans bureau was in for a visit, Abby and Kenny came over for dinner and brought a few new friends.
Teresa continued her tradition of trotting with the Turkeys in the morning. Ben and Chelsea took the grands to cheer her on and stopped at the best Donut house in Memphis for fresh apple fritters to go.
I continued my annual ritual of getting the Turkey in the roaster and the Ham in the crockpot while listening to Alice’s Restaurant. I have to listen to it alone, partly because I like it that way, and mostly because the kids think it’s a stupid idea. This year I listened to it twice in a row because somehow that message of non-violent resistance resonated more in the current, violently intemperate political climate.
We met Abby and Kenny’s new friends Shane and Carlett, a wonderful young couple from New Mexico who belong to the Navajo Nation. They brought their friend Kirsten a German exchange student with a very sweet accent who seemed very comfortable celebrating with us and gave us all a lesson on Rumple Minze.
Ben and Chelsea made oyster dressing, an overstuffed fresh apple pie, and a few other things, sorry but my memory is a pretty leaky bucket anymore. Abby made something like 18 lbs. of mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, a bourbon pecan pie and pumpkin bars. Kirsten made her mother’s recipe for German potato salad and Shane and Carlett brought Pinto Bean Stew, frybread and fixings for Navajo tacos.
It was a Thanksgiving Dinner that couldn’t be beat.
This morning Teresa and I were talking over coffee and wondering why we old people don’t just get out of the damn way and let these bright young people take over. If anything will heal this country and bring it back together, it will be them.
