By KAREN MADORIN
As a kiddo, I couldn’t wait for Thanksgiving. I loved making Pilgrim hats and handprint turkeys at school. As a youngster and adult, I treasured celebrating at Grandma Lottie’s where she served family roasted turkey on a platter surrounded by dressing, sweet potatoes, green beans, corn, hot rolls, mashed potatoes and gravy, along with the promise we needed to leave room for fresh-made pumpkin pies and homemade whipped cream for dessert.
Not only was the meal delicious, she decorated the dining and living rooms to whimsically celebrate the season. Autumn flowers surrounded pilgrim and turkey figurines in every available space. Little ones couldn’t resist moving those characters from place to place while providing clever kid dialogue. My mother accepted her Mom’s challenge and found a huge terra cotta turkey accompanied by porcelain pilgrims and turkey salt and pepper shakers to grace her Thanksgiving table post Grandma Lottie.
Gramma and Mom must’ve passed on the festive gene as well as some décor, though it took a while to manifest. After decades of no Thanksgiving doo-dads, we now hang an autumn wreath on the door, set out a snipped-tin turkey in a bower of silk leaves, and display clever little bird pilgrims and smaller turkeys with dangling shoelace legs. This generation of grandkids continue the tradition of transferring them from one open spot to another in dining and living rooms. Lately, those turkeys have prompted some soul or perhaps dietary searching.
Here's the dilemma. While turkey is clearly traditional Thanksgiving food and one that Grandma and Mom always served, my hubs and I prefer ham at holiday meals. What does this mean in terms of décor? Do I jettison gobblers in search of handcrafted oinkers to replace expected turkey figurines in holiday displays?
Our community boasts a craft business that offers the public opportunities to dip a brush and paint plaster molds, including porkers. I can see accenting them to suit autumn. Like those cool horses decorated with different designs that you find in specialty catalogues, I could paint sunflowers all over one of those little hams and then embellish another with fall leaves and one with Pilgrim hats and blunderbusses. If I got really creative, I could cover one of those forms with dozens of strutting turkeys celebrating the fact they aren’t on the menu. Only moderately interested in gramma’s holiday foo foo rah, the grands might get into painting piggies to replace those goofy fan-tailed strutters and start a whole new family custom.
While we might replace a traditional turkey meal with ham, it’s hard to ignore a life-time of celebrating my favorite holiday (no costumes, no gifts, great food, and good fellowship) without the standard turkey showing up in some form. Based on research, natives and pilgrims at those early feasts ate more fish, sea food, venison, and other wild game than they did turkey. But, family tradition is important. It creates structure for celebrating and customs to pass through generations.
That said, since we have a ham in the freezer awaiting Thanksgiving, our collection of turkeys can offer thanks they’ll continuing starring in our traditional décor.