A couple days ago, I said to my Southern man that it just didn’t seem cold enough to be Thanksgiving, already. Being a New Englander, my memories of Thanksgiving weather range from somewhat mild, gray days to cold, snowy gray days; usually the latter. As a matter of fact, I will NEVER forget the one Thanksgiving we “missed” due to the latter.
When I was a child, we almost always went to my grandparents’ place, simply called “the Farm” for holidays, Sunday dinners, etc.. As I got older, we went to other places–grange halls, church halls, VFW halls–remember the “I ‘like’ this” post? About the huge family I have? Hence the need for larger facilities. This one particular year, we were heading to the Farm, once again, for our annual Thankgiving get-together. We only got as far as the end of our driveway. We’d had a huge snowstorm and couldn’t get the car out, despite the efforts of…well, not me. The disappointing result was a Thanksgiving dinner consisting of…pea soup! Actually, the soup was very good, but pea soup at home ain’t turkey dinner at the Farm!
The point is, it was snowy that Thanksgiving. And it was snowy the Thanksgivings we used to go tobogganing down the hill across the street from the farmhouse. And it was snowy when my mom used to go ice-skating on the irrigation ponds after Thanksgiving dinner when she was a kid. And it was snowy the Thanksgiving my daughter was 7 years old, because that weekend, in a brilliant attempt at “snowboarding” with her older brother and a red plastic sled, he fell on and subsequently broke her foot. So, to me, Thanksgiving means, if not snow, then cold temperatures, at the very least. (And thankfulness for good health insurance.)
Now that I live down here, I guess I’ll have to get over the idea of cold, snowy Thanksgivings. And my Southern man, helped me take that first step with his wise reply to my
whining complaint observation. He said, “Did you ever see paintings of Thanksgiving with snow? How can you have cornucopias with snow?! There was never any snow!” (The word “derisive” comes to mind, for some reason….)
That set me to thinking, though. He was right! There are no paintings of cornucopias beautifully dusted with fluffy white snow. Instead, there are harvest vegetables and autumn leaves–things which, in New England, anyways, are merely wishful thinking or memories by this time of year. Thanksgivings in Alabama are probably more in line, weather-wise, with what Thanksgiving is supposed to be like, at least according to cornucopia paintings. Here in L.A. (not the big city) the leaves have not reached peak colors, yet, and the temperatures are in the 60’s and 70’s. There will be no snow and no tobogganing. On a side note, the word “toboggan” doesn’t mean “toboggan” down here, it means “hat”. (Whenever my Southern man says that, I always get an image in my head of him balancing a huge toboggan on his. I’m imaginative that way.) Anyways, I don’t think I’ll be using any toboggans of any sort, this Thanksgiving. And you know what? For that, I have to admit, I will probably give thanks….