Happy Thanksgiving!

Ah, Thanksgiving time!  Time to give thanks for so many things...

I'm thankful for my husband of 46 years...  We're beginning to think our relationship might last. 

I'm thankful for all our children, godchildren, and dear, dear, dear friends, both here in South Dakota and all around the country, who are the great delights of our lives.  

PRO TIP:  Friendship [and books] will get you through times of no money [or any other crisis] better than money will get you through times of no friends [or books].  

I'm thankful for this crazy patchwork quilt of a country, with all of its variety of accents, faces, backgrounds, predilections, hobbies, obsessions, cuisines... all of it.  Any country that can provide samosas, pierogis, empanadas, tiropitas, pasties, and dumplings (steamed, fried, or baked) from every nationality is my place to live, but then I have never had enough stuffed packets of dough in my life.  I would hate to live in a country where everyone looked, sounded, believed, and acted alike.  

I am thankful for a warm house with central heating, working plumbing, and a solid roof in this, our first killer cold snap of the year.  Winter has come late to South Dakota, which means we all got spoiled rotten and seemed to think it would never happen...  And I'm so thankful that we don't have to twist hay to use as fuel.  Read Laura Ingalls Wilder's The Long Winter - nothing, I repeat, NOTHING is romantic about winter in the days before central heating.  

A log cabin in Minnesota in 1890, 

courtesy of the Minnesota Historical Society (Wikipedia)

And I'm especially thankful that we don't have to burn coal.  

As I've written before, we did, back in the first house we ever bought in Bristol, TN. It was a dilapidated old place with closets made out of linoleum and few other amenities. As it turned out, there also wasn't a lick of insulation, but that's normal with "Southern" houses,  even if you are living in the Appalachian mountains.  To all those who say, "Well, winter's not too long and it all melts off soon", my response is "ALTITUDE COUNTS!!!!"  

And it came with an old coal furnace.  Well, we couldn't afford both a down payment and a new furnace, so we just laughed and said we'd find out what life was like in the 19th century, and we did. It sucked.  

For one thing, the coal wasn't delivered in relatively small lumps that you could shovel straight into the furnace.  Oh, no, it came in giant lumps, 2-3 feet wide that came down the coal chute straight into our basement, sending up clouds of black dust that, after decades, is probably still on the basement walls.  Every night my husband came home from work and (wearing kerchiefs on his head and face) smashed those lumps of coal by picking them up and throwing them on each other and/or the floor.  More clouds of black dust.  Then he'd throw some of it on the fire, and that would see us for about 3-4 hours.  Before we went to bed, he'd throw more of it on the fire.  Early in the morning, I'd get up and, carefully dressing myself in my oldest, dirtiest hard work clothes, rekindle the fire and throw coal on it.  I'd come back from work at lunchtime and put on more coal.  And after work, the coal furnace came first...  

And an old coal furnace without a blower means that the heat gently rises... which meant the house was always cold.  I remember that Thanksgiving we had a killer cold snap.  The furnace was providing just enough warmth so we didn't have icicles coming off of our noses, but that was about it.  So we set up a couple of kerosene heaters to try and get the temperature higher, enough so we didn't have to wear hats and gloves and scarves indoors.  I remember trying to levitate on top of them in an attempt to feel warm...  I failed, but I believe I invented some new yoga poses in the process.  

The house also came with a coal fireplace (i.e., a very shallow fireplace that is not very good for burning logs), so one night I had the bright idea to kindle a coal fire in it and maybe get warm.    

It worked.  Sort of.  It was smelly and sooty, just like the furnace (how on earth did any Victorians manage to not get lung cancer in a world of coal fires?).  And the Victorian home was never clean:  coal is dirty to handle and the sooty particles that come out of the vents or in the fireplace smoke stick to everything. You can't just dust it off, or even wipe it off - that oily smut requires scrubbing. It is the reason spring housecleaning used to be mandatory, and required fun things like lye soap and arms like a brickbuilder.

Come spring, we cleaned.  Oh, how we cleaned.  

And we cheerfully went into debt for a brand new gas furnace that had a blower and all new ducts, because all the old ducts were full of black smut.  Luxury!  Warmth!  Luxury!  

Ahhhh....  

And I'm thankful for the memories...  And so thankful we don't have to do them again.

May you all have a Happy Thanksgiving, with warmth and food and no coal!!!