I’ve been sick since Sunday… upper respiratory crud… lost my voice.. fever (and chills) come and go.. so, I’ve decided since my folks are 80 and my neice is six months preggers that I probably shouldn’t go to our Thanksgiving meal tomorrow.. sigh.. I hate that.. Thanksgiving is my absolute favorite holiday. Why? Because it’s about family. Not presents, or bunnies, or dead people. Family. Tomorrow, they’ll tell stories I’ve heard hundreds of times – and everyone will laugh. Tomorrow, my dad will ask us all to tell one thing we’re thankful for this Thanksgiving. Some will tell funny things, some mundane and some will bring us to tears. If I was going to be there, my thankful testimony would be that two weeks ago my mom received the official word from her oncologist that her aggressive breast cancer has been “cured” – it’s been 5 years! Thank you God. Seriously. Thank you.
Everyone has their special dish to prepare and I am the “Queen of the Mashed Potatoes”. So, prior to making the heart breaking decision not to go, I had whipped up 5 pounds of yukon golds. The secret(s) to creamy tators is keepin’ it REAL… real butter, real cream cheese and real whipping cream. Uh huh. No margarine, no ff cream cheese, no skim milk or even half and half. This is not a time to scrimp on calories. If you’re gonna do tators – DO ‘EM! (While I’ve been sick, I’ve been surfing with my laptop in bed and found that Ree of the The Pioneer Woman makes her tators like I do! Who knew? Except I use regular salt and whole cream and she uses lawry’s seasoned salt.) The Pioneer Woman herself is going to be in Ponca City this Saturday for a book signing of her new cookbook… Ponca City isn’t too too far from me and I’m thinking I may go see her. It would be a first for me. I did stand in line at midnight for a Harry Potter book (and no I wasn’t the only adult there!) but I’ve never stood in line for an autographed book. I’m thinkin’ seriously about it.
In the meantime, I’m recuperating. Hoping to be fever free for 24 hours so I can get out of this house without making anyone else sick. But just look at who I’ve got to keep me company…. ohhhhhhhh.. smoogy woogy widdle dahlin puppy dawgs… they do not care what I look like, or that sneeze my germs all over them, or that I croak like a frog and cough like a fog horn… they just love me…