One memorable holiday my younger brother and our uncle decided to fill the "lake" of my brother's train table with water. It wasn't water tight and blue water (they colored it with food coloring so it would look more realistic) leaked all over my brother's carpet. My mother was thrilled.
Another year, my aunt and uncle brought my brother a flashlight with fiberoptic threads coming off it. We were very excited (it was the 80's after all) and spent turns sitting in the hall closet watching the pretty lights. And cramming my 6 foot plus uncle into the closet with my brother to check out the lights. And prying him out. And locking each other in the closet. And screaming that we were locked in. Gee, we were well behaved.
There are lots of Thanksgiving stories, but I'm not going to tell them here or now to protect the innocent (or the not so innocent, perhaps)...but if you know me personally maybe I'll share some of them sometime. Most probably are really only funny if "you were there".
In the meantime, here are some classic photos of Thanksgivings past. Fortunately, I only have two years easily accessible--1986--a family game of Scrabble after dinner
From left to right--my mom, Grandad (Dad's dad), Aunt, Uncle, Grandma. Probably that is the top of my head in the very front.
On right, my Grandad, Aunt, Uncle, and younger brother. I'm guessing it is my rear end on the right, wearing my stylin red velour pants. Nice.
The highlight of almost every year was the Family Band. My dad came across the cassette tape recordings a couple years ago and copied them all to MP3 files...which I don't know how to post here, or I might ...
The 1984 band is actually pictured here, as well as my parent's rockin 1970's furniture. I'd like to have that furniture now, actually...mine is all falling apart.
My aunt trying to teach my brother and I to play the violin



A solo attempt

Then my aunt's turn


My brother, with his domino tower...
Grandad and me, notice the red velour pants again...they most have been my turkey eatin pants (to quote Joey Tribianni).

And here, finally, is the whole band in action--it looks like we shook things up a little--Grandad usually played the French horn, but is on the flute here.

I, unfortunately, am playing the oboe, so my aunt can play the piano. She could have played that flute, then I could have played piano, but maybe I was showing off. On an oboe. Seems unlikely, but who knows the mind of a 13 year old girl, right? My uncle is on trumpet and Dad on trombone--their first choices, but not their only choices. Ironically, my brother, who eventually could play all of these (well, not the oboe, perhaps, unless he was under duress) is not participating, as he is "only" a piano player at this point. My mother is participating by supervising the tape player.
Hard to believe this was almost 30 years ago!
Happy Thanksgiving, Everyone!
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