Thanksgiving Table

Well, here it is “Black Friday” – about the most negative and depressing label for the day following our national day of thankfulness that I can think of.  But, it certainly reflects my feelings on the entire consumer frenzy that the media has been flogging us with for the last few weeks.  With apologies to all of my retail friends, I have absolutely no intention of buying anything today.

Not that we are big spenders on any day of the year.  We’ve never been bitten by that particular bug.  We are still believers in need-based spending and, when you reach your golden years, ‘need’ lessens. We believe in the adage ‘if you can’t eat it or wear it, don’t buy it.’  In fact, I often wonder (as I watch those perpetual mattress sale commercials on TV) just how many new mattresses one person needs in a lifetime?

The Hostess

Or guns.  It used to be that you could meet your hunting needs at Dennis Company.  Now, there are two(!) gun stores on the Peninsula.  It seems to me that once someone buys a gun, there isn’t much need for anything beyond ammunition.  I know that our population is increasing; the Observer said so just this week.  But two gun stores??

The Peninsula’s gradually growing population was touched on in an article concerning a potential bond issue to revamp the old Ilwaco High School.  I hope it passes and they hurry with the project before the overpopulating at the recently refurbished Hilltop causes it to age prematurely.  Which could result in yet another financial crisis for the school district – or so the cycle has gone as far as I can remember.  Lordy, lordy!  And there are people out there loading up on mattresses and who-know-what-all before the sun has peeped over Friday’s horizon.

The Host

I intend to spend my day eating turkey sandwiches and continuing in the thankful mode.  We had a lovely yesterday despite the fact that our ‘repaired-as-of-last-week’ stove went crazy about an hour and a half before the bird was due to come out of the oven.

It would cycle off (accompanied by flashing lights and a big groaning noise and then black silence) for two or three minutes and then, fortunately, cycle back on (ditto lights and noise followed by the time and oven temp displayed once more) for two or three minutes.  The temperature stayed steady at 325 and, although we would lose 40 or 50 degrees when we opened the oven to baste the turkey, the temperature would rise during the next ‘on’ cycle.

It felt like we were teasing the turkey into a presentable condition, but dinner was only a half hour later than planned.  Never mind that the biscuits didn’t come out of the kitchen until the bitter end – just in time to mop up any bits of gravy left behind on our plates.  Delicious to the last morsel!

Cate and Pat

The best part of the celebration, of course, were the guests, some of whom knew one another, some who did not.  Before the evening was over, all sorts of those ‘six degrees of separation’ discoveries were made, even that Noel had gone to art school with Greg’s dad.  Pat and Cate talked writing and poetry.  Nyel remembered to light the candles and much, much later I remembered to blow them out.  Life is good indeed!