Thanksgiving has forever been a very special holiday for me.  I remember as a child, my grandparents always came to our house for the feast.  I remember sitting on the back of the couch and watching out the window for them to arrive.  Grandpa drove the ugliest ass car.  I think it was a 57 Chevy in titty pink and white.  I would yell, “they’re here”, and rush out to the car to meet them.  Grandma’s purse always smelled of Clove chewing gum and I always got a piece right off the bat.

My grandfather was a shy man but tall, strong and blonde.  He gave the best hugs.  He was the first person I ever heard of having Alzheimer’s disease.

Waking up on Thanksgiving morning was the best.  The aroma of turkey and dressing permeated the air. My mother was up early in the morning to cook the innards for the giblet stuffing.  She had a fresh pone of cornbread baked to go in too.  I’ve always said that heaven would smell like Thanksgiving morning.

When we lived in Dayton, Ohio we started a tradition of having all of our friends over the weekend before Thanksgiving for a pre-turkey party.  My house would be full of card tables and tv trays for our almost thirty friends to eat.  Everyone would bring a dish to pass and the hubster and I made the turkey and stuffing.  I really miss those parties.

When we moved to Illinois, we would take turns having Thanksgiving at relatives’ homes.  The first one we had in our new home was very special as my parents and my favorite aunt and uncle came from Ohio to join in with the hubster’s parents, grandparents and his brother’s family.  We had a real house full that year.

Later, when the girls went to college we started having Thanksgiving with Addi bringing friends from Beloit College that couldn’t go home for the holiday.  (Sometimes I think they just wanted to come to our house.)  We had such fun times.  We made the usual turkey and stuffing dinner but the hubster always made a roast beast.  (i.e.  bloody beef roast.)  Everyone was in the kitchen cooking, or opening the wine and passing out spirits.

Now that the girls are at the far ends of the United States, it is just the hubster and me for dinner.  Last year I got to make a small chicken with stuffing and the fixins.  (Stuffing, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole and rolls.)  The hubster confessed that he really doesn’t like turkey and stuffing and I admitted that I could exist on it.

This year we have settled for making Tonkatsu.  This is a Japanese dish of deep fried pork cutlet on a bed of raw cabbage, rice and deep-fried hunks of onion and green pepper with Tonkatsu sauce.  The sauce is similar to A-1 sauce or Heinz 57 sauce but a lot better.  We usually make this dish when we have company.  It takes at least two people to make it.  One frying and one handing off prepared items to go in to fry.  We decided that it was special enough that we would have it for Thanksgiving.

If you are interested and would like to have it, come one over.  Yeah right!  J M K Nippon serves it, but you have to request to eat on the dining room side and not on the teppan side.

Happy Thanksgiving.  And may peace be with you.

As I get older I find that I listen to NPR a lot more.  I guess I am getting tired of hearing the same old songs on the radio.  I am a rock and roll girl and I love most everything from the late sixties to the nineties.  Pop music sucks butt, rap music sucks something else and some of the new hard rock is a little too hard for me.

And so I digress on the subject of this blog.  My subject is “thank you.”  Or possibly “you’re welcome.”  On the talk shows on NPR the host always thanks the guests for being on the show and rather than them saying “you’re welcome” they thank back.  What ever happened to “you’re welcome?” What I am saying is why not say, “You’re welcome and thank you for having me on your program.”

I believe the problem is that people don’t want to feel indebted to anyone else.  I thank you, you thank me – we’re even.  I thank you, you “you’re welcome” me – does that mean that I won?  I just think it is common courtesy.  Let’s not let “you’re welcome” die.

The sign language for “you’re welcome” is a “W” to the side of your face, and cross over.  We should all learn sign language in case we can’t hear when we get really old. (Back to digression.)  The universal sign for “thank you” is your hand at your lips and drop it to your chin, fingers pointing outward.

Most every day when I walk the dog I thank the universe for “this day”. I am so very lucky to be able to live in the country, breathe fresh air, walk this little dog who lived in a shelter for five years, and be able to speak and write my mind freely.  I have the most wonderful daughters and sons-in-law and a brand-new grandson.  My friends are the best.  I have good health and I think my breath is usually fresh.  And so, I thank the universe every day for “this day”.  (BTW, it has never “you’re welcomed” me.)

I have been getting a massage (or fifteen minutes of absolute torture) every Monday morning, trying to break up these knots in my shoulders and neck.  When she finishes, I always say “thank you”.  She usually just murmurs something.  I appreciate her so very much.  I took her one of my jams.

Today my big project is to write six “thank you” notes.  I oversee the maintenance of the garden at the front gate where I live at Lake Summerset, Illinois.  I have a crew of six women who on and off help me.  We usually work for an hour but sometimes we must work for two.  The more hands the faster the work.  And I am so very appreciative of these ladies.  Two years ago, when I took over the task of being team leader, I worked by myself on many Monday mornings. That year when I got a couple of workers, I took them to breakfast for our last Monday.

“Thank yous” are given right and left to each other, to our waitress, to our teacher, to just anyone who comes into our world and helps out.  The “thank you” that is not given enough is to ourselves.  In this day and age, we do not have enough pats on our back to ensure that we are doing a good job.  There is too much depression in way too many lovely people.  There is way too little kindness drifting around the atmosphere.

Just for today, thank yourself.  Say “thank you” to the mirror after you brush your teeth.  Say “thank you” to yourself after making your bed.  Thank yourself after making and eating your breakfast.  Thank yourself for every little task you perform.

Make a big-ass sign that says “THANK ME” to remind yourself to give yourself some thanks.  You deserve it.  You need it.

You’re welcome.

Peace be with you.