From Where I Sit

By Pat Spilseth, Columnist

It’s been a lovely Indian Summer, though Halloween was cold and only a few trick & treaters came to my house. Thanksgiving is a few short weeks away; Christmas arrives in less than two months. While Boy Scouts are canvassing the neighborhood selling wreaths and pine boughs, some folks are trimming their homes with lights. It may be early, but they’re hoping to avoid the freezing temperatures and snow forecast later this week. Along with the scent of pine, anticipation is in the air!

Christmas boutiques, church suppers and candle lighting ceremonies are advertised in local papers. Though I haven’t heard Christmas carols on the radio, nor have the DJ’s been playing “Over the River and Through the Woods,” I know those tunes will be played non-stop in a few days. Several stores have notified shoppers to get ready for an early Black Friday: they’ll be open Thanksgiving evening! Pumpkin pies, pumpkin coffees, pastries, even pumpkin flavored beer are available… tis’ the season of aromatic scents and mouth-watering tastes.

Thanksgiving is a gentle reminder that we have much to be thankful for. Perhaps some of you recall a picture, which hung in many dining rooms, kitchens and churches, of an elderly man praying before his simple meal. Entitled “Grace,” the photograph portrays an attitude of thankfulness. Photographer Eric Enstrom said, “I wanted to take a picture that would show people that even though they had to do without so many things because of the war, they still had much to be thankful for.”

Soon radio stations will be playing that memorable Thanksgiving song, which has already begun to spin endlessly on my head’s turntable:

“Over the river and through the wood,

To Grandfather’s house we go;

The horse knows the way to carry the sleigh

Through the white and drifted snow.

Over the river, and through the wood,

Oh, how the wind does blow!

It stings the toes and bites the nose

As over the ground we go…”

Lydia Maria Child wrote this popular Thanksgiving song as a poem in 1844. She enjoyed recalling childhood visits to her Grandfather’s house.

As a young kid, I loved going to Grandma DeKok’s house in Brooten, where I’d get to see lots of cousins. We’d gather at our Dutch Grandma’s home, which she shared with my Aunt Sadie, the red-headed post mistress in Brooten. My favorite Aunt Sadie sewed little girls’ dresses, canned chickens, fruit and vegetables, quilted cozy blankets, baked Dutch treats and was a consummate garage sale shopper…I thought that Aunt Sadie could do anything!

Sadie and Grandma’s house smelled of chickens roasting in the kitchen. In the living room, the uncles sat near the upright piano in comfy, overstuffed chairs and the sofa smoking cigarettes, though Uncle Dan was rarely without his fragrant pipe. Sitting on hard, stiff-backed, wooden, dining room chairs, the aunts sat for a few moments of rest and chatting after they’d assembled the meal, fed the little ones, served coffee to the men and began knitting or sewing. Silently, Grandma would rock back and forth in her rocker, always dressed in dark colors with her gray hair tucked into a bun. I don’t ever remember her speaking: perhaps she didn’t speak much English, only her Dutch language.

In the sunny kitchen, my cousins would sit around the gray Formica table in padded chairs, surrounded by smells of cooking chicken, potatoes and baking rolls. Orange or cherry Kool-aid was our treat along with rice crispy bars and sugar cookies, but only after we’d eaten a healthy meat and potatoes meal. After eating, the kids would play on the many windowed front porch with the dolls, buggies, balls, trucks, Chinese checkers and Cootie games that Aunt Sadie had purchased at garage sales. The afternoon passed too quickly; soon we had to climb into our blue Hudson car and drive home. At the close of the day, I longed to take my cousins home with me; I wanted brothers and more sisters to play with.

November is the month of thanksgiving, a prelude to December’s month of enchantment and festivities. Now is the time to be thankful for the many blessings we enjoy.

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To contact Pat, email: pat.spilseth@gmail.com.