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| Here are the South girls, hungrily waiting for Thanksgiving dinner, 2013. Mike and I were invited to their home last year, and were told that we were not expected to bring a thing. |
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Aspen prepared the entire meal, clear down to those delicious rolls you see proofing in the pan.
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Thanksgiving dinner is one of my favorite meals of the year. I love the turkey, the mashed potatoes and gravy, and the rolls. This year, Aspen added two new foods that were quite a hit. For Dad, there was fresh asparagus cooked to perfection. For me, I loved the pomegranate seeds.
And, just so that the story is forever recorded...I will include an experience that happened nearly 30 years ago, during our first, brief stay in St. George. We had a tiny pomegranate tree that had produced maybe six little pomegranates. I was watching and waiting with great anticipation for the day when we could harvest our small crop. (You have to understand that this was a time in our lives when every penny was carefully budgeted and there were no shopping sprees that involved the purchase of gourmet foods like pomegranates) Each day, I would check the progress of my fruit. Because the tree was tucked away in a spot of the yard that was not visible to any windows, I always had to go outside for my inspection.
And, just so that the story is forever recorded...I will include an experience that happened nearly 30 years ago, during our first, brief stay in St. George. We had a tiny pomegranate tree that had produced maybe six little pomegranates. I was watching and waiting with great anticipation for the day when we could harvest our small crop. (You have to understand that this was a time in our lives when every penny was carefully budgeted and there were no shopping sprees that involved the purchase of gourmet foods like pomegranates) Each day, I would check the progress of my fruit. Because the tree was tucked away in a spot of the yard that was not visible to any windows, I always had to go outside for my inspection.
You can probably guess where this story is going. You might even be able to imagine the emotion I felt when I discovered the dastardly deed...complete with broken, empty pomegranate shells littering the ground. And you might have figured out it was the kids--Aspen(5) and Vince(3) who were the thieves. I wanted to wring their little necks! Being fat and pregnant no doubt intensified that emotion.
For some reason, I never blamed Vince. He was the little brother who didn't know any better. Aspen was the one who bore the brunt of my anger-for years. The two of us could never be in the same room with a pomegranate without me making a comment about her early childhood crime spree. One Christmas I made arrangements with Santa to put a pomegranate in her Christmas stocking, so I could bring up the story once again. I was still telling it when she had kids of her own. And then, one day, Aspen looked me straight in the eye and said this, "Mom, I have never regretted picking those pomegranates. They were absolutely delicious, they did not give me the stomach ache you felt I deserved, and to this day I love pomegranates!"
Well, that comment stopped me short. I think a part of me was secretly happy for the delicious treat my two oldest kids got way back in the early days when money and treats were so much more rare than they are today. I realized that the closest to an apology I'm ever going to get from Aspen was that large bowl of pomegranate seeds for Thanksgiving dinner, with instructions to her kids to make sure I got all I wanted before they finished them off. I'll take it.
By the way, after this past hard winter killed off several of our trees, I am happy to report we have now planted a pomegranate tree! I wonder if I should install surveillance equipment?!
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