It is 10:38 p.m. on Thanksgiving Eve.
This afternoon we took family photos for our Christmas cards by the Mill City Ruins in Minneapolis. We picked up our photographer not even a block from our house, because our photographer is also our darling neighbor girl, who is also our kids babysitter when we need a night on the town.
After that we headed home, I went on line and got tickets to see the Shrine Circus on Sunday, then I ran to the grocery store for the ingredients for the broccoli salad and appetizer I am bringing to Kelly's house tomorrow.
We had frozen pizza for supper, and I went to the Thank offering service at church. The rest of the family stayed back and watched a movie.
As I returned from church alone, I thought back to my younger years (like high school and college). Back in the day, I always attended some sort of dance at an area ballroom on Thanksgiving Eve. You know, like the Shaw Band at the Bird Island Ball Room, or Johnny Holmes in Gibbon, or one or the other at Cedar's Edge Ballroom in Cedar Mills. I wonder if that place has been condemned yet???
Anyway, you came out, and so did everyone else from the small towns, amongst all the college crew home for the long weekend. You know... home from Southwest State, Mankato State, Moorhead State, and St Cloud State! I would find all of my cousins - Michael, Christopher, Dawn, Brad, Matt.
I think it cost about $8 to get in. Often, we waited in line outside (without coats). Once inside, it was sweaty hot on the packed dance floor swaying to "Fishing in the Dark" or "My Brown Eyed Girl". To quentch your thirst, you had an older cousin get you a tap beer, or a Mac and Coke (yup... those nasty brown liquors) in a plastic cup, and then another, and then another.
And we all somehow found our way home by way of a VERY dark, desserted gravel road at the end of the night.
At noon on Thursday, one side of the cousins would re-unite with aunts and uncles and cousins. We always spent Thanksgiving with the Toren side. My mom would observe who was the most alert, the least alert, had the worst head ache, and was the least likely to enjoy their mashed potatoes and gravey. Maybe a glass of Boone's Farm would remedy the situation?
Tonight I came home and sipped on a glass of Cab while prepping the salad and dip. Mark and I put up some Christmas decorations.
It is now 10:59 p.m. and the year begins with "20" instead of "19". I am blogging. I will not have a hang over tomorrow. I will drink wine I can buy myself. It won't be 'Strawberry Hill'.
But twenty years ago...
Oh what fun we had
...back in the day!
Happy Thanksgiving Ya'All!
((ps - I have nothing against Boone's Farm, and will now probably crave it tomorrow!))