i hope everyone has a great day,and no matter what you eat,try not to eat too much(one of my perennial problems).this is a day for thankfulness,and i am thankful to still be mostly vertical and above ground.i'm thankful i am blessed with a woman who loves me unconditionally ,and surrounded by fur-kids who feel the same.i'm thankful for my extended family,with whom i have the chance to communicate with and who share memories of thanksgivings past.we did have some fun at holidays as youngsters,didn't we? and i'm thankful for our parents who brought us into this world ,and the grandparents and aunts and uncles and loved and guided us to adulthood.
happy thanksgiving to one and all.
i am re-running this post from 2008 , it seems apropos ...
mr. t sent me this to post.it's a little slice of old 27 thanksgivings , and old 27 dinners past...
" I was watching a commercial about Thanksgiving dinner on TV just now and was reminded of this little Gem:
At a dinner, which was not Thanksgiving, but happened around 1967, the Mickles and the Timlins were up at Old 27 at Grandmother's table (the very one on which the top is blue, is now sitting in my basement) ready for dinner.
Uncle Vane was given the honor of saying the blessing. Whose idea was that any way? They were not thinking clearly that day. I think it was Mom. Maybe it was a set up.
Vane's prayer before the meal consisted of the following:
"Pass the potatoes, pass the meat,
Why in the dickens don't we eat?" (Now we live on Dickens Street, and may find out why in the dickens......if the economy keeps going the way it is).
The timlin boys were in hysterics, couldn't stop laughing, as they were used to the traditional, boring Catholic prayer of
"Bless us oh father, and these thy gifts which we are about to receive, from thy bounty through Christ our Lord,amen" mundanely recited by our dad or assigned to one of us and occasionally mom.
Theo was heard muttering something like "Vane, cut that out," but it was no use. Even Grandma was snickering.
Then Paul, after laughing, stepped in at Mom's request and recited the Catholic prayer among two little boys trying to keep from snorting through their nose to stifle the laughter.
Another time Vane recited another Gem which we've all heard before:
"Over the teeth and through the gums,
Lookout stomach, here it comes."
I always wondered if there was another poem to describe the other direction..............."
At a dinner, which was not Thanksgiving, but happened around 1967, the Mickles and the Timlins were up at Old 27 at Grandmother's table (the very one on which the top is blue, is now sitting in my basement) ready for dinner.
Uncle Vane was given the honor of saying the blessing. Whose idea was that any way? They were not thinking clearly that day. I think it was Mom. Maybe it was a set up.
Vane's prayer before the meal consisted of the following:
"Pass the potatoes, pass the meat,
Why in the dickens don't we eat?" (Now we live on Dickens Street, and may find out why in the dickens......if the economy keeps going the way it is).
The timlin boys were in hysterics, couldn't stop laughing, as they were used to the traditional, boring Catholic prayer of
"Bless us oh father, and these thy gifts which we are about to receive, from thy bounty through Christ our Lord,amen" mundanely recited by our dad or assigned to one of us and occasionally mom.
Theo was heard muttering something like "Vane, cut that out," but it was no use. Even Grandma was snickering.
Then Paul, after laughing, stepped in at Mom's request and recited the Catholic prayer among two little boys trying to keep from snorting through their nose to stifle the laughter.
Another time Vane recited another Gem which we've all heard before:
"Over the teeth and through the gums,
Lookout stomach, here it comes."
I always wondered if there was another poem to describe the other direction..............."
3 comments:
Bless the meat and bless the Gin, pin your ears back and let's dig in!
Bless the family,
Bless the food,
keep your clothes on,
don't eat in the nude....
hahahahaha well said gentlemen...
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