Thankful for Thanksgiving Silliness

Anyone for Turkey Bowling? How about wacky Thanksgiving headgear? Turkey craft projects?

I really like Thanksgiving, maybe more than any other holiday, and I like a side of silliness with the traditional meal. Fortunately, my extended family goes along with that, and often contributes their own expressions of whimsy.

Last year, I bought Thanksgiving eyeglasses for everyone. Here I am, modeling the pair I chose. 

One year, I showed up with a Turkey Bowling game, tall plastic "pins" in the shape of turkey legs and balls with appalled turkey faces. We "bowled" in the long hallway, scattering turkey legs everywhere. At the end of the evening, the younger set hid a leg or two in the house for someone to find later.

Another year, I showed up with Thanksgiving Rubber Duckies, little rubber bath toys dressed in Pilgrim garb, Native American headdresses and turkey feathers. As I recall, one year I provided a herd of toy wind-up moose, and the family held moose races at the table. (Still mourning the closure of a favorite toy store: The Last Wound-up, in New York City.)  

Hats and bonnets for everyone at the table — like those Puritan men and women wore — were a big hit one Thanksgiving, provided by other family members. A few years earlier, we all donned more elaborate seasonal headgear. Here, appropriately attired, Grandma Sue whips the cream that will top the pumpkin pie and her special tasty gingerbread cake with candied ginger, served after the main meal. 

I don't do crafts — I even have a button trumpeting that message — and before you criticize me, know that I don't do crafts because I'm terrible at them. Blame a lack of manual dexterity (except when I type) or poor spatial relationships or art appreciation skills of a different sort or whatever you like, but I don't do crafts.

However, one year, I arrived at Thanksgiving with a prepackaged turkey craft project for any interested guests, and the kids were all over it. Some of the turkeys ended up serving as ornaments for the Christmas tree, an unusual after-story for Thanksgiving leftovers.

Speaking of leftovers, because everyone at our Thanksgiving dinners brings more than we can eat, we always have plenty of food to divvy up and tote home so each of us can enjoy the meal all over again the following day. Here's a sample plate from one recent year's feast. 

What I just wrote is not entirely true. In addition to pumpkin pie and gingerbread cake, my daughter-in-law's delicious apple pie is one of our cherished Thanksgiving traditions. Sadly, rarely is any left in the pie plate when the evening draws to a close. This photo shows a somewhat deconstructed piece on my dessert plate — maybe I was served first, always the hardest piece to extract from a pie.

This year, I'm not taking silly Thanksgiving-themed souvenirs or a crazy game to our gathering. Instead, I'm honoring our penchant for apple pie by sharing a fascinating factoid I learned while watching "CBS Sunday Morning." Allegedly, the first written recipe for apple pie dates back to the 14th century, and was penned for a royal cookbook by none other than Geoffrey Chaucer. How cool is that? 

Happy Thanksgiving!