Canadian Thanksgiving

You can’t miss it. Every grocery store is so packed that it feels like notification of an impending apocalypse was given. Every buggy is in use, every register is open, pumpkin pies are flying off the shelf, potatoes are on sale. I bought 8 turkeys this morning. Yes, I said 8. I have a big family and I normally include turkey in our meals every few weeks and at he current pricing, I had to stock the freezer. Believe it or not, I’ll buy more again around Christmas to keep us stocked up until Easter.

I was actually asked this morning if I buy groceries for other families because of how much I purchased. I almost said I was buying for my sister wives and my kids half siblings just to see what the reaction would be, but she was a younger girl raised on reality TV and probably would have believed me. One cart filled with Fruits and veggies then another for meat and frozen items; it was the 3rd trip for the aisle dry goods that made her take notice. That and 100 lbs of turkey.

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15 Responses to Canadian Thanksgiving

  1. dievca says:

    Happy Thanksgiving! I could go for some of that Turkey. I prefer my cranberries cooked from fresh, not canned. XO

  2. safirefalcon says:

    Happy Thanksgiving. Enjoy all that great food. As I’m sure you know ours doesn’t roll around til end of next month.

    • rougedmount says:

      i LOVE the US thanksgiving…most Canadians celebrate it as well..lol..it’s another reason for a big meal and TONS of football…plus, that’s like the signal to get serious about Christmas for us and to get cards in the mail,,,lol

  3. marcus says:

    Howling Thanksgiving, turkey will be gobbled and devoured this weekend GrrrRrrrRrrr yummy
    Peace and Face Licks 😉

  4. oceanswater says:

    Gosh has it been a year already? I remember all the pies and other eats you made last Thanksgiving…

  5. hispetitelle says:

    Happy Thanksgiving! It’s my favorite holiday and I stock up, too. Like you dievca, I make my cranberry sauce fresh, as well. Yum, Enjoy!

  6. Village Idiot says:

    Canadian Thanksgiving, Sex and Fresh Cranberries:

    Dear rougedmount:

    My ‘down east’ childhood home had a backyard porch with a window that swung open toward a wood. Outside the window and attached to a sturdy tree, a clothes line spanned the width of our backyard. There, mom hung the weekly wash as the world awaited the invention of the modern clothes dryer. Especially, I remember the winter months. It thought it amusing to see Mom fight, bend and pull through the window flannel bed sheets frozen stiff by Arctic air.

    Many years later, I returned home with What’s-her-name and her parents from the US, to visit mine for Canadian Thanksgiving. During table discussion, someone suggested that we all name something for which were thankful. This is how I learned about the circumstances of my sister’s conception. So we’ve got our Thanksgiving Day gathering, and the sex. Here’s how the cranberries fit into the story…

    It was the eve of Thanksgiving Day and it was cold. Warm and stewing on the stove in the kitchen fresh cranberries bubbled cheerily. But cranberries were not the only thing feeling warm and fresh that cold, wintery day many years ago. Mom was reeling in clothes from the line when an amorous Dad arrived in the porch and kissed her. One thing led to another. Soon, another stew was in the offing in the porch.

    Later, and just as things were nearing a head, the kitchen experienced an eruption of its own. No longer content to simmer hardily in the pot, cranberries spewed rebelliously from their container and ran down the side to join the flame. Mayhem ensued.

    Over dinner, Mom recalled how cold it was. Dad pointed out that the cold didn’t seem to matter at the time. That’s when Mom protested.

    As if deeming my sister’s existence to be inconclusive proof, she began explaining to the dinner company that things really hadn’t gotten that out of hand, that Dad was embellishing the story, etc. It was when Dad replied that ‘things were getting pretty hot and heavy in the porch’ that conversation became interesting. We realized that this was one installment in an ongoing debate about ‘what happened’ in the porch. People started offering their thoughts and weighing in on which version of the story was correct.

    My late Mother-in-Law’s was a quiet woman. That didn’t deceive me. Sensuality smoldered and seethed in her very bones. This made her the polar opposite of her daughter, What’s-her-name. If something had a sensual angle, Mugzie would find it and go there first. Also, she had a brilliant mind. Her elocutionary powers were extraordinary. She made simplicity and subtly her servants continually.

    After several minutes, this conversation ran its course. Mugzie spoke.

    M: ‘Your father’s version is correct.’
    VI: ‘And how is that?’
    M: ‘It takes time for things to come to a boil.’

    Mom’s face registered utter incomprehension. Dad was lifting a glass of wine to his lips when I spoke.

    ‘Look, Dad – Mom thinks she means the cranberries…’

    Ruby juice sprayed the length of the Thanksgiving Day table as Dad choked, babbled incoherently, and struggled to find his composure.

    Village Idiot

    PS: Wishes for a great Thanksgiving to everyone north of the parallel!

  7. I think you’re my hero…turkey every few weeks. Oh my. *fans face* I get it twice a year, if I’m lucky. On an unlucky year, only once. Where is it you live again? I could totally stalk you.

    • rougedmount says:

      lol..just look for the woman who looks like she’s shopping for a summer camp when the reality is, it’s just feeding the live in’s. and no need to stalk..there is enough pie and turkey for everyone

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