Okay, I’m going to set myself up for the “eyeroll” award by saying what happened to Thanksgiving? But hey, really, doesn’t it seem as if Thanksgiving gets buried in the omnipresent Black Friday? It’s as if people have to stuff themselves to the gills, not because they’re thankful for the food but in a version of carb-loading for the big event. Apparently, it fuels them to fight the crowds for the Christmas present free-for-all.
I’ll let you in on a secret that I know from past retail experience and one which my retail sources will agree with: Those bargains you’ve just got to have? They’re going to be around for the next three weeks. Better bargains will be had.
But hey, who am I to criticize those who enjoy the day that is ALMOST as popular as the OSU/UM game? Almost.
So anyway, Thanksgiving was quiet this year…at least in my house. We tucked the Luginbill Farms turkey in the freezer for Christmas since there were only three of us, and instead had a Luginbill Farms chicken. I might be a bit biased, but those chickens are the best. So are the turkeys.
The highlight of the day was when my mother walked in the door with cranberry salad in one had and the ominous paper sack in the other hand. I think her eyes were glinting when she said, “I’ve decided it’s time to start getting rid of things.” (BTW, Mother, I’ll be reminding you of this statement.)
Inside her magic bag were six seed-pod turkeys, circa 1950, that had graced our Thanksgiving table throughout my childhood. Oddly, I’d never heard the story behind the turkeys. Turns out way back in the early years of my dad’s employment at Bluffton University, the faculty and staff were treated to Thanksgiving dinner. One year, my mom was in charge of decorations. Someone gave her a sack full of these seedpods that came from a tree (and she knows EXACTLY where the tree stood), so she and my two oldest brothers spent a day making these turkeys. Apparently, she thought I needed them now, but since I don’t want my brothers to feel left out, they’re each getting one for Christmas. Whoops, let that little surprise out of the bag. Oh well, they never read this.
On to Black Friday, which really didn’t exist in my world except for the fact that daughter number two texted me somewhere along the way to tell me that she’d completed her early morning shift…still alive and well. She actually volunteers to work at 6 a.m. Volunteers to work on Black Friday? Who does that?
I, on the other hand, honored Small Business Saturday one day early by shopping downtown Bluffton. Just the way I love it. Quiet. No crowds. No lines.
Then Saturday arrived. If you’re familiar with Bluffton’s Blaze of Lights, you know that this is the day that the population soars as parade-goers line the streets for our version of Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade. No giant cartoon characters and only one band, but it’s less about the actual parade entries than it is about the EVENT THAT HAPPENS AFTER THE PARADE. This is when the light switch is thrown and all the lights surrounding the Presbyterian Church lawn and the Christmas display come to life. Hence, THE BLAZE.
Okay, here’s my version of Saturday. Since my husband is the local Chamber CEO, he is in motion from about 7 a.m. to 9 p.m. , making sure that everything happens as it should. Except for a 15-minute nap at 3 p.m., I don’t think he sat still for more than five minutes. Well, that’s not true. We did eat supper at the Senior Citizen’s Center in about 10 minutes. My only job was to make flags and earwarmers for the three recumbent trikes in our (Bluffton Icon) parade entry.
Well, that and make sure that I was wearing enough layers to offset the frigid air. You try riding a bike in four layers. It’s not easy.
And so Thanksgiving ended in a chilly Blaze. But wait until next year. The three of us tricyclists have big plans for our expanded participation in the Icon parade entry. Don’t miss it.