Sears Island
Chapter 17: The holidays and the fencing project

Copyright© 2012 by Howard Faxon

The highboy came in before Thanksgiving. We filled it with all the hand-painted china and the cut glass goblets that had been in the trunk. I bought a tarnish-retardant velvet-lined case for the silverware. I used the internet to find some silver serving pieces that matched the silver service fairly closely, and bought them. We'd probably never use them short of a wedding or visiting royalty. If the governor visited I'd invest in a matched set of dog food bowls. We used Corelle for day-to-day and our coffee cups did not match. It's the farmer's way, just like drinking from a stainless-steel vacuum coffee flask and peeing on trees. I always carried a handful of paper towels in my shirt pocket to take care of business when out in the field.

We were on the final count-down to Thanksgiving. It was snowing steadily. The turkey was in the brine and the roasting pan was ready. I'd pulled the vegetables from the sand piles and Julie was in a baking frenzy. I heard two beeps from a car horn. I opened the door to Charlene carrying in two big pumpkin cheesecakes! I'd forgotten all about the deal we'd made!

"Come in! Come in. Here, put those down on the table. Can you stay? Have a coffee or two?"

She dropped into a chair and gave me a wry smile. "You're my last stop. Now I can relax."

"Good! Please tell me you're staying for the holiday dinner. I've got two spare bedrooms and we certainly don't stand on formality around here."

She considered it for a while, and agreed. "Great! Let's get you situated. If you'll follow me?"

I opened up a spare bedroom for her, showed her were the bathroom was, got her a spare set of sweats and a robe that I'd bought and never used. I turned her loose to explore. In all the confusion, I took Julie aside and flipped her for who cooked the next day, Thanksgiving. I won, so I cooked! I found the jellied cranberry concoction I was looking for. I prepped a batch of biscuit dough and prepared a few dried apple and flour puddings with brown sugar, cinnamon and nutmeg. I made a butter-rum sauce and set it aside in the refrigerator. I counted noses. We'd pull the two tables together and use the linen tablecloths that I'd bought for the conservators. I never did get around to assembling that damned chandelier. Building and electrifying that was a job for a pro. I didn't know quite what to do with it. Maybe it would just be assembled and hung in the dining room of the pioneer village with candles in the sockets. I didn't have any fancy candlesticks or dried flowers so we did without a center piece.

About four A.M. I rose and started the turkey on the spit with the reflector oven, cooking all sides as it turned. It was at least a twenty pound bird. I had set a glass pan under it to catch the drippings. I peeled five pounds of potatoes, quartered them and put them in a bowl holding salted water. That went into the refrigerator. I set the giblets simmering in a pot with bay leaves and peppercorns. At three hours until noon I dropped the pudding bags into boiling water. The cold potatoes came out of the fridge to warm up. At about an hour before noon I started the oven and put the butter on serving plates. Sliced, peeled potatoes went into salted boiling water to cook. I beat the biscuits into shape. At T minus 30 I slipped the pan of carrots into the oven, took the spuds out of the water, added cream and pepper then beat the hell out of them. I had the kids set the table and got the cranberry compote onto a plate. The biscuits went into the oven and the pudding sauce went from the refrigerator to the nuker to get it steaming. The turkey was done so it went onto a carving board to rest under an aluminum foil tent. I used the pan juices along with the giblets, leg meat and a butter & flour roux to whip up turkey gravy. I ran it through the blender to get it creamy smooth. I carved the bird in the kitchen then brought everything out to the table. The glazed carrots came out of the oven piping hot. My biscuits and Julie's bread were a hit. The carrots were sweet and played off the cranberry relish. I hadn't made stuffing, but it wasn't missed by anyone but me. I thought the turkey was wonderful and got no complaints. For once I'd gotten the lumps out of the mashed potatoes! I think the adults liked the pudding better than the kids. I thought that it was pretty good. Next year I'd probably substitute bread pudding with raisins, a perennial kid's favorite. A rum and brown sugar sabayon could go over the adult's portions while a butter and powdered sugar cream would be reserved for the kids...

A blushing Charlene took her bows over the cheesecakes. We relaxed over coffee for the adults and hot cider for the kids. Charlene mentioned "You've done this before."

I shrugged. "I spent a few years in the trade. It was long enough to know that it wasn't something I'd be happy with long-term." I grinned. "But I've still got the chops!" I got up, noting "Back to the trenches. Now the real work begins."

I started some pans with water heating over the stove. I turned into 'Mac the Magic Bubble Dancer'. I had drying pots, pans, plates and bowls stacked over every damned place in the kitchen. I had Mark get one of the buffet tables out of the barn for more drying space. Once it all dry and put away I took out a few things and put them on the buffet table.

I dropped into a padded chair. "Hot open-faced turkey sandwiches for dinner. All the stuff's on the buffet table. Serve yourself! Everyone laughed but still served themselves. Julie made up plates for the kids, who'd never had an open-faced sandwich before. The gravy lasted and Julie's bread made a fantastic sop under the meat. A little cranberry compote on each plate seemed to go well, even with the kids. I was satisfied with another slice of that marvelous pumpkin cheesecake and a cup of coffee.

It was after dark and I was having trouble keeping my eyes open. I made my apologies, took a shower and slept until seven the next morning.

Mark had gone back to his place. He had to get the animals fed and the eggs gathered. Charlene and Julie were quietly talking over coffees and the kids were watching something on TV with the volume turned down low. I was in jeans and a sweat shirt. Charlene was in sweats that were slightly too big for her and Julie was in her standard black pants and flowery top. I pulled a coffee and doctored it, then sat down at the table with the ladies.

Charlene asked, "Sooo, when is your birthday? I owe you another cheesecake!"

Julie butted in. "What's this, did you lose a bet to this scoundrel?"

"Nope, He came in like a bolt out of the blue and offered me the best deal I've ever heard of for a five-year construction and operations loan. The single rider was that I provide him with pumpkin cheesecakes on Thanksgiving, Christmas and his birthday."

Julie gave me the eye. "Well?"

I shrugged. "April first."

She quickly zinged me with "It figures."

I thought for a minute, then I rose and put on my boots and a coat. I picked up my coffee and headed to the door.

"And where are you going?"

I replied, "To sit with the dogs."

It was silent for a moment. I waited for it...

"Why"

"They won't stab me with knives." I scooted. I wondered how I'd be made to pay for that one. I walked a few steps, turned and went back in. They were not Mary. They didn't deserve that. They were both looking into their coffee cups, definitely not happy. I put down my cup, knelt between them and gave them a communal hug.

 
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