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On Thanksgiving We Put Up Our Dickens Village

November 26, 2015

photo (3)One month ago Elisabeth made her own count-down calendar on which she counted the days left until we set up our Dickens Village.  Our Dickens Village was a gift to us from our dear neighbors Bob and Kathy.  Bob and Kathy lovingly collected all fifty seven pieces (plus shrubs, hedges, and trees of the forest) over a period of thirty years and then, of all things, gave the entire collection to us!

Last year was our first year to enjoy our miniature village.  We set it up in the dining room, but arranging and rearranging the little scenes proved to be so distracting for me (at its peak causing a grease fire on the unattended stove) that I decided to move it upstairs where it twinkles merrily on our bookshelf in the hall.

At long last, Thanksgiving arrived and after breakfast Dan began toting in the large tupperwares that house the 57+ boxes that house the 57+ pieces.  Setting up the little village with all it’s cords, light bulbs, street lamps, figurines, skaters, carolers, and trees of the forest is a little like giving birth. When it finally ends you swear you will never do it again.  But by next year you have forgotten all the pain, and the prospect of a hallway full of twinkling lights greeting you when you get up to go to the bathroom in the night, spurs you to open 57+ boxes and start the whole process over.

It was a good thing I wasn’t planning on any serious Thanksgiving cooking since the majority of the day was spent setting up the village.  We decided not to roast a turkey this year for two reasons. A. Mrs. Watkins is allergic to turkey, and we desired neither to taunt nor sicken her with the smell of the roasting bird.  And B. None of the children like turkey, nor do I.  Dan is the only one who likes turkey (but not a lot) and that is a lot of meat for one man who doesn’t like turkey very much. What a relief to be released from turkey roasting and instead chained to a flank steak on the grill for a mere twelve minutes per side.

I say the children don’t like turkey because that is what they told me last year when I roasted a turkey.  Only today when I didn’t roast a turkey they suddenly experienced a burning love for turkey.  Fortunately, Patty has not been released from turkey as I have, and so I sent the girls down the block after their steak dinner. They came back with little turkey “to go” plates.  Which they enjoyed very much.

We have a lot of meat confusion generally.  Not just remembering what kind of meat we like but also what kind of meat we are currently eating.  I was mortified this summer when we invited Charlie’s first grade teacher and his wife for a fine teacher appreciation dinner, and Miss P asked very seriously with a mouth full of steak, “Is this really meat from a monkey’s bottom?” Apparently, her nice sirloin steak resembled something she had seen that day at the zoo. When I assured her it was not, she held out her plate and said, “Well then gimme some more of that good chicken!”

Prompting Charlie to correct her, “Miss P, steak is not chicken…it’s pork.”

The confusion extends to other food groups. Yesterday, after a big lunch, the kids went poking around the kitchen looking for something to eat (NOTHING makes them as hungry as a big meal), and found grapefruit.

Miss P: “What is grapefruit?”

Charlie: “Miss P, you don’t know about grapefruit?  It’s the most AWESOME vegetable!”

I would tend to agree with Charlie.  It is the most awesome vegetable.

Below: Miss P identifies with another carnivore.

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One Comment leave one →
  1. Sue Peterson permalink
    December 12, 2015 8:58 pm

    Hi Lucy,

    I’m with my mom today and she asked how the Peppers are doing as I’ve read her some of your posts to her in the past and we’ve enjoyed a good laugh.

    Thanks for entertaining us with your great writing and sweet and funny stories about your adorable kids.

    Merry Christmas from me and my mom to your whole family.

    P. S. Will there be an update about the thucking thingerth?

    Sue Peterson (Sarah Peterson’s mom) and Gail M.

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