Thanksgiving At The Miller's

Thanksgiving at the Miller's

My dad was a man’s man.  He worked all week repairing tractors, combines, and irrigation motors. Cooking the Thanksgiving turkey would not fall under any of those job descriptions.

I came along late in their lives, (SURPRISE!!), so I can’t vouch for what happened earlier in his life, but this is my history thus: my dad was born in 1913, so he was from a different time.  My mom was born in 1919.  I remember them saying things like, “a child is to be seen and not heard”.  It was the tradition in that period that the men ate in the “dining room” FIRST, then the women ate in the same room, then whatever left was fed to the children in the kitchen. (As crazy as that sounds in these days of feeding the kids first, I, as one of those children then, never wanted for too much, as my current robust health testifies.) I guess you could call it “food politics”. That’s when “the woman’s place was in the home”.  With all this posturing, a “man " cooking was a bit—how should I say it--odd.  Different. 

My dad did not care.  He usually repeated this turkey-dressing feat at Christmas, but Thanksgiving was the priority. Outside of these yearly duties, breakfast was his only culinary expertise—in the mornings or sometimes for supper.   Most folks around Hartley would be surprised, my dad was not the guy  you would expect to fix a great Thanksgiving feast.   He would fix your International irrigation engine, but not dinner. Every year he tried different things.  He baked the bird in a paper bag, or he would  open roast it, basting it hourly.  It was his profound pleasure to create a moist turkey.  But it was not his turkey I am here to talk about. It is the dressing.

Thanksgiving dressing is a VERY controversial subject.  Trust me, after years in the beauty salon,  I know.  Most recipes are protected with some sort of vigilante attitude.   Bread?  Cornbread? Sage? Sausage? The arguments were never-ending, and sometimes bordered on violent! Well at our  house, it was cornbread dressing.  

My mother would bake the cornbread, stone ground cornbread from a recipe in her head that was never written down. For weeks, she would have been freezing day old bread, dinner rolls,  hamburger buns...any other bread that might be getting a little dry and could be used for this as well. Thanksgiving Eve, Daddy would begin the process of turning that bread and cornbread into dressing. When I was older, I watched to see how he did it—because it was and still is my favorite  of the Thanksgiving meal!  You can all have your pies and cakes, just give me a big heap of dressing and gravy! Daddy chopped all the vegetables, and mushed all the breads and broth with his hands until it was the proper moistness, then baked it golden brown—just right to soak up all that giblet gravy!!

He usually baked the dressing the night before because he thought it had a better flavor after sitting overnight, and he would need their one oven for the turkey and all the other goodies the next day. While he tried different cooking methods on the turkey, the dressing never changed. I have considered trying different dressing recipes through the years, but when my daughters would find out my intentions, they would blanche.  “What?  You are not making Grandaddy’s dressing???”  So, I have never tried any of those sausage or cranberry dressings. But that's ok, this one ROCKS.

Cornbread Dressing 

1 large iron skillet of cornbread  ( 2 packages of cornbread mix, made per directions)

4-5 hot dog buns or 5-6 slices bread

1-2 cans chicken broth 

3 raw eggs, beaten

2 stalks celery, diced 

1 medium white onion, diced 

3 boiled eggs, coarse chopped

2 teaspoons salt

1 teaspoon of black pepper

1 Tablespoon poultry seasoning

Place hot dog buns (or slices of bread) in large pan, and cover with a small amount of broth, allow to soak a few minutes. 

Dive in like you are making a meatloaf and crumble the cornbread with your hands. Blend into the bread and add just enough of remaining broth until moistened.

Add salt, pepper, and poultry seasoning to beaten eggs and blend into bread mixture. Top with onion and celery, blend in with your hands. If the breads are very dry, you might add more broth if it is not wet enough. It should be similar to a soft mashed potato consistency.

Add chopped boiled eggs. Fold into mixture carefully as not to break them apart too much.

Place in greased 9" X 13"pan, cover with foil. 

Bake 30 minutes covered at 350 degrees. Remove foil, and bake for 30 minutes uncovered.

Check for doneness by inserting knife in the center--there should be no jiggle when shaken, and it should be firm, not too soft in the center.

I always bake my dressing the day or two before so the flavors can blend, and it frees up the oven on Turkey Day. It can be frozen, thawed, and the finish bake done later. Keep in mind you will be re-heating it, and you do not want it overcooked and dry. 

Have a wonderful, blessed Thanksgiving my friends!  Peace, Love, and DRESSING!

Memories of Christmas

I am sure we all have memories of past Christmases that we recall around this time. My family didn’t have a lot of money, but as a small child I never knew that. There was always a tree with gifts, and a special meal, of course.

I have memories of the beautiful packages, most of which might have been wrapped with re-used paper from last year. Because my parents endured the Great Depression, there was no ripping paper off the boxes with abandon, you carefully pulled the tape loose and slid the box out, so the paper might be re-used next year. The bows were all gathered and put in a box, only to reappear the next season. My dad (born in 1913) told stories of his childhood when Christmas shopping happened on Christmas Eve, as well as purchasing the tree and putting it in the house. They popped popcorn and strung it with cranberries to place on the tree. Mama Miller would be in the kitchen cooking and baking for the big day. They usually got one gift, and it was most likely something practical—like socks or handkerchiefs. This was also one of the few times of the year they would get fresh fruit and nuts in their Christmas stocking, a tradition passed down to us that my brother Clifton recalls as being a rare treat for us as well, especially oranges. Any kind of fresh fruit was not common in our home, as it was still considered an expensive special treat. I (or should I say Santa) passed the tradition on to my girls by placing fruit in their Christmas stockings, even with the year-round availability of fresh oranges and apples.

Many years my Mother would go to Amarillo just a few days before Christmas to shop for us, and then you’d hear all kinds of noises through the night as she wrapped them. One year I heard lots of racket but stayed in my bed because they told me Santa wouldn’t come if I got up. The next morning when we got up, there sat a slot car set for my brother Ken! Clifton, Jim, and Daddy had apparently put it together and “tested” it the night before, hence the noise. I remember another Christmas very clearly; I asked Santa for a Barbie Doll. Sure enough, Christmas morning there was Barbie! I was over the moon.The next year I woke to Barbie clothes…hand made by my mother. There was a corduroy coat with a fur collar, a sheer nightgown and robe with tiny lace, a ballerina costume with rows of silver rick rack on the tutu, and-wait for it- a wedding gown. She had gathered scraps of fabric from friends and neighbors- the satin and lace were from the neighbor’s wedding dress. When I think about the hours of tedious stitching it took for her to take those scraps and not only sew the clothes, but add tiny buttons, snaps, lace, and beads—even though they were created out of necessity, they hold a special place in my heart. 

           

We celebrated Christmas with my maternal grandparents and families in Dalhart on New Year’s Day. The smell of fresh pine mixed with pipe tobacco greeted you when you entered. As a child I was mesmerized every year by the real 10 ft Christmas tree complete with strands of the large 3” colored lights, tinsel, and BUBBLE LIGHTS! I loved the bubble lights! At home our small tree usually had the strings of tinsel, but it just had the regular sized bulbs. When I got old enough to toss the strands of tinsel on the tree, I felt very grown up!

An odd thing happened one year. I walked into the living room at Grandmother and Granddaddy Clifton’s house to find something VERY unexpected. There sat this shiny silver thing that looked like Sputnik had dropped it in their living room from space! It was only about 5’ tall, and they had it on a table so it didn’t look so strange in that high-ceiling room. It had a color wheel that rotated changing the colors. It had all blue glass bulbs. AND NO BUBBLE LIGHTS. I was excited and disappointed at the same time! I look back now and think how out of character it was for them to have that in their old farmhouse-style home that featured 10-foot-high ceilings, wood floors with linoleum rugs, and always smelled vaguely like moth balls.

Something very special to me is that my dad (Lloyd Miller) built the lighted star that stands on top of the elevator in Hartley. It is usually lit from Thanksgiving through New Year's Day. It was the early 60’s, and Farmer’s Supply commissioned him to build it. With the help of his assistant, Cyril Hedrick, and my brother Jim, they welded and formed the star. Jim has said it was the first time he had ever seen brand spanking new 16’ sections of angle iron steel- he’d only ever had the used stuff to use. He describes how Dad laid the steel out on the shop floor, then drew the template around it with white chalk on the floor. Jim helped him weld it and cut the holes for the lights. Daddy was very proud of that star—when lit you can see it for miles around! I love that star, it reminds me of my childhood growing up, of being able to look out my window and see it and remember the look of pride that Daddy would get when he spoke about building it. Later he built one for Coon Memorial Hospital in Dalhart, but it was removed during the building’s renovation years later. Daddy was born in Hartley and lived most of his 88 years there. That star is part of his legacy that my family shares with that community every season, and I hope it stays up there for many more years—so when you see the star, think of my dad!

Wishing you and yours a very Merry Christmas!

Peace, friends!

With This Ring I Thee Wed...And Happily Ever After

40 YEARS!! 

Where has the time gone? Below is a blog I posted for our 35th anniversary, followed by several new photos 

at the bottom of the page. 

August 24, 1979

The old ball and chain.

Getting hitched. 

Tying the knot. 

Most common slang terms used to describe marriage often conjure up images of torture. And yes, some folks will tell you that is what being married is for them—torture. Many people marry thinking it is about "love", and living "happily ever after". While love is definitely on the list, there are many, many other things that make "happily ever after" happen. During these 35 years of marriage Chuck and I have gone through several on the list at one time or another to stay hitched:

Love/Lust—Passion is a powerful emotion that begins a relationship.  A feeling of completion by another person, and it can literally be the glue that keeps you together as a couple. It also makes butterflies appear in your stomach and simultaneously makes you blind to the other person’s faults. Trust me, that weird chewing thing he does will come back to haunt you later when the new has worn off.

Trust—Mutual trust is foundation of any relationship.  If you don’t trust each other with your heart, soul, car keys and credit card pin numbers, don’t walk--RUN out the door.  You are not ready for marriage to this person.

Commitment—The building blocks of the marriage. Most think love is what a successful marriage is built on, but it's really commitment. Love/lust ebbs and flows over the years, but commitment is what keeps you there. When times are trying, remember love/lust will return and make you butterfly-e and blind again, and even that chewing thing won't seem so bad.

Humor—There is nothing better than sharing a laugh with your loved one. Finding humor in stressful situations is often the best medicine! Laugh until you cry, snort, pee, or whatever it is you do when you are overcome with joy. Laugh at each other, and laugh at yourself once in a while! Trust me, no one cracks me up like me! I’m hilarious!

These are just a few “textbook” descriptions of what makes a lasting marriage. Then there are the real truths:

 

There should be a hotline for homicidal housewives.  I can name countless times I actively planned the hubby’s murder while cleaning the bathroom or picking up his stuff strewn from here to yonder. Or held a pillow at the ready at 3 a.m. when the snoring reached buzz saw pitch. Thankfully, my senses returned and I put those plans on hold. For now.

There should also be a hotline for homicidal husbands. For when their wives move their stuff. Or throw out their stuff. Or drink all their whiskey. Or spend too much money. Or when he wants to hold my mouth shut at 3 a.m. when that annoying popping noise I make when I sleep nearly drives him over the edge. 
Or when I Won’t. Shut. Up.

Time apart is important. Interesting fact: Paul and Linda McCartney lived together 29 years and only spent 10 nights apart. (When he was in a Japanese slammer for marijuana possession.) While I see the value in this for some couples, we have always embraced doing things separately.  We can enjoy our different interests, and come home with great stories to share. I think the hubbs would agree that going to 55 junk shops is not high on his list. And for me, indoor car racing on a dirt track doesn’t even make my top 20. That still leaves plenty of stuff that we enjoy doing together, and I won’t come home with dirt in my ears.

Time together is equally important.  Take time every day to have a real conversation. Ask what is going on at work or how their day went, and you will understand what is going on with your spouse. Sometimes we forget to separate our personal lives from what is going on at our jobs, and good communication helps us to diffuse a cranky partner.  Always try to "check work at the door". If all else fails, have a cocktail and put on some music. It's hard to be a "cranky pants" in a happy atmosphere.

Be flexible. Age, children, job changes, health problems—they are all powerful game changers in a marriage. Friends come and go, children grow up and move out, parents graduate to heaven. In the end it is you and your spouse against LIFE. Make sure you choose a good teammate that knows how to protect the goal, and don’t let your personal selfishness derail the team. 

Recognize who you are individually. Chuck loves tinkering in the garage, smoking meat, watching movies and TV, and playing cards. I like to cook, paint, write, refinish furniture, sew, do photography, and remodel the house.  Thankfully he has learned how to stay out of my way when some of my above-mentioned tornadic activity is happening, and I don't bet against him in card games. 

Recognize what you are together. We have worked together to build the life we have, with each of us bringing different aspects to it.  It has been 35 years of changes, as we have changed as people and learned to agree on a path going forward. Does that mean we always agree on everything?  Oh, HELL no! (Anyone who has been around us more than 15 minutes knows that!) While we might go to sleep aggravated with the other, thankfully neither of us remembers it when we wake up. (Best advice, right there.)  Life’s too short for grudges.

Don't,  for even one second, think the grass is greener somewhere else.  The grass is greenest where you water it. 

A few years back, I wrote a poem and would like to share it again:

Perfect Love

If you're looking for perfect love, it just doesn't exist

It changes completely after that first sweet kiss

Challenges present themselves every day

Making it hard to find your way

There's love and lust, and sweet adoration

All of which have brought down nations

The strength of them just boggles my mind

But it is nothing compared to the daily grind

Constant see-saws in the struggle for power

Moods swinging wildly, almost by the hour

A woman marries a man, thinks all his faults she will tweak

He'll even clean and wash all the stuff in the sink

He'll iron all his shirts, and give her a massage

And he'll mow the yard and clean out the garage

He'll bring her fresh flowers when her day has been rough

And serve breakfast in bed, and all that kind of stuff

A man marries a woman, thinks she will forever be the same

Not even prepared to play the marriage game

No more parties with the buddies, no nights on the town

And God help him if he doesn't put the seat down

Forget the sexy jammies, they are long gone

Replaced by a t-shirt—NOT worn with a thong

And then come the kids, the pawns on the board

Here everybody wants to try to keep score

Oh yes, there are good times, and time spent in bliss

Then times you are not speaking, much less want a kiss

You are up, then down, then spun around crazy

You gotta hang on tight, you can't be lazy

Love takes lots of work, lots of give and take

You can't have it all, you have to give them a break

Yes, stand up and demand it, if it's something important

If it's not, let it go, it will all get sorted

Once you get by that first flush of love

You need help from heaven above

'Cause Lord knows, none of us are perfect

Love is hard and something you have to work at

It's not about finding someone who perfectly fits YOU

It is not like going shopping to find the right shoe

It is more like searching for buried treasure

You can't see their worth, can't even measure

It's all just a gamble, just rollin' the dice

But so is everything worth having in life

Now, some awesome wedding photos. Enjoy. (If you can't tell, our colors were blue. You gotta love the '70's.)

**CLICK ON PHOTOS TO VIEW IN SLIDESHOW**

The Announcement

The Wedding Party

 L to R: Carrie Bryant, Christie (Miers) Beer, Sandy Bryant, 

Blushing Bride, Handsome Groom, 

Jimmy House, Randy Miers, Tom Shimon

The Bridal Portraits...

And the Groom...

And don't forget to laugh.

NEW PHOTOS

 

Happy Anniversary, Chuck. You are my "Happily Ever After".