Happy Thanksgiving 

from

Pentoga Road

November 26, 2020 - Thanksgiving Day

35 degrees/cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

Sitting here in these predawn hours, my mind is sifting back through the years, thinking of family gatherings at Grandma and Grandpa's, playing with the cousins, sleeping on the floor, good smells, better food, and laughter coming from every room. 

A year ago, Thanksgiving Day, we were nearly housebound by two feet of wet, heavy, snow. Without electricity or communications of any kind, we had been frantically trying to get to Indiana to see Mom the day before. Once power was restored, we found out that Mom, surrounded by three nurses who stood at her bedside, holding hands and softly singing a hymn, had passed away early in the predawn hours of Thanksgiving morning. 

I was horribly sad, yet thankful that her days of suffering were over.

I'm thankful today that Mom didn't have to live through the Covid virus. If her age related illness hadn't eventually ended her life, being shut off from her friends and family would have. 

But thankfully, in my time of grief and sadness, once the snowplow went through, we were able to make our way to Foster City to join the Milligans, all who had gathered to celebrate Thanksgiving. There were tears of sadness, but most of all, there was support and unconditional love to help a grieving son through the initial shock of losing his mother.

For Sargie and her wonderful family, those whom I call my family as well, I am grateful on this Thanksgiving day.

Although I didn't get a thing accomplished in the shop, Wednesday was a busy one. In fact, I didn't even enter my sawdust filled sanctuary. 

Returning home from my early morning walk, Sargie and I decided to go to Iron Mountain for a few errands. A present needed to be picked up from Home Depot and an oil change was past due in the Kia.

Entering Home Depot, Sargie first spotted our newest Christmas addition from far away.

"Oh look!" she said, as she walked up to the near life sized Santa. 

Initially, I thought she was kidding. After all, we already own a six foot Santa that sings and dances.

The twinkle in my Sargie's eyes signaled this was serious holiday business and that the jolly old elf would soon be calling Pentoga Road his new home.

Hmm, purchased and carted out of the store under one arm, I began to wonder how Santa would fit in our pint sized Kia. 

Sideways, lying down in the back seat?

Now that wasn't going to work. Santa's length exceeded the width of the car.

The back seat was folded down and Santa was inserted head first.

That didn't work either. 

I began wondering if I'd have to walk back into Home Depot to purchase a set of straps with which to fasten him onto the roof, or possibly put Santa in the front passenger seat and strap Sargie onto the roof.

One last attempt. Sargie and I gently lowered him through the hatchback, feet first. A gentle twist of his boots while carefully holding his head, arms, and presents. Would he? Could he? Was he?

At last! Santa, well, this Santa, anyway, would be trading in his sled and eight tiny reindeer for a trip to Pentoga Road lying down in an old sub compact Kia. 

After a quick oil change at the Jiffy Lube, we made our way back to Pentoga Road where ten million, billion, and thirteen, rutabagas were demanding our attention.

The rest of the afternoon was spent peeling, cutting, sorting, and slicing, our contribution to today's Thanksgiving meal.

It's become a Thanksgiving tradition that Sargie and I work together to put up the world's hardest root crop. We sang, gabbed, and muttered more than once and were careful to keep from slicing off our fingers.

Finally, cleaned and with all imperfections cut away, Sargie fed the pieces into a mechanical slicer while I provided the manual power. Slicing them first significantly reduces the boiling time.

Hours later, boiled and soft, the baggies were finally ready to be mashed. I used a mixer while Sargie added her secret herbs (we pronounce the H in herbs... remember? Try it, it will drive your friends, neighbors, and relatives, crazy.) and spices along with butter. The concoction was later put into a slow cooker.

Don't even begin to make fun of me for wearing my Packers jammies. I'd taken a shower while the baggies were cooking and other than mashing them, was ready to settle in for the evening.

The Thanksgiving rutabaga mission was accomplished for yet another year.

We'll be leaving later this morning for the Mighty Milligan Thanksgiving Celebration. My favorite part of today is walking into a home filled with great smells, better food, and best of all, one that is overflowing with hugs, kisses, laughter, and most importantly, family love.

Happy Thanksgiving from Sargie and me. May God bless.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Let's see, we now have a four foot Santa, another that is six feet tall who sings and dances, and several ranging anywhere from one to three feet in size. The North Pole has nothing on us.