a thanksgiving tradition

Every year I look forward to Thanksgiving. Who doesn't love the concept of pausing and thanking God for the gazillion good things He's given us? It reminds me that I should do that more often. Then of course, there's all the fabulous food and cute decorations. And having two days off is a nice bonus He throws in just for fun.

I'm not one to go out at 4:30 on the morning of Black Friday and brave the crowds just to get a good deal on a plasma TV or whatever. Last year I didn't even venture out until about 11:30 and that was only because one of my favorite stores was having a $5 sweater sale. I couldn't pass that up, even if the limit was two.

My sister, on the other hand, has already been to the outlet mall to scope out what she's hoping to get on Black Friday. She drags my mother into this every year and they always end up getting all the kids new winter coats. Every. Single. Year. My brother-in-law is the official "run it out to the van so we don't have to carry all this crap around all day" guy. He loves it just as much as they do. I call and get updates on all their great deals while I'm still in the comfort of my pajamas. Three time zones away.

Ahhh, three times zones away. It kinda sucks to not be with my family on the holidays. Actually, let me rephrase that. It SUCKS. Phil's family doesn't always get together either. And this year I thought we were going to end up doing a quiet little dinner for two with the fancy china, of course. Which is ok. We've done it before. And I like using the fancy china on Thanksgiving.

As it turns out, he has to work Thanksgiving Day until 1:00 which means I'd be home, all by myself, semi-watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade and freaking out - wondering if the turkey is going to turn out right. And seriously, that's not so much fun. And I grew up in a huge extended family. My mom is one of seven and my dad is the oldest of eight. That means lots of people around the table fighting over the crunchy pieces of stuffing, and yelling for someone to please pass the butter down here, and finding out who gets the last bit of cherry cheesecake. So as much as I love being with my husband, deep down inside I need to eat with more people to keep my emotions of missing my family under control.

Cue the angelic music. My friend Barbara, salsa canning queen of America, has invited us over for dinner.

Let that sink in for just a moment.

Are we good? OK. So I ask her what I should bring. I suggested green bean casserole, but that was already taken. Then I said, "What about scalloped corn?" I got the thumbs up on that one and I am so excited. How can I be so excited about making scalloped corn you may be wondering? Well, let me share the story.

Quite a few years ago, I got my sister a Gooseberry Patch cookbook for Christmas and thumbing through it, I noticed a recipe for scalloped corn. At every church potluck of my entire life, some old lady would make scalloped corn. Occasionally, there would be more than one old lady making scalloped corn. And let me just tell you, it is delightful!

Fast forward to Thanksgiving the following year. I decided to make scalloped corn. I kind of remembered the ingredients, but wasn't sure how much stuff to put in or how long to bake it. And we were leaving pretty early for my aunt's house, so I needed the recipe early. Nothing else to do but call my sister. At about 5:30 in the morning. She wasn't so happy about that.

Since then, even though I have it, I've called every year at 5:30 in the morning to ask for the scalloped corn recipe. Well, except one. Once, she called me, just to be funny. Another time I think I remember her turning her phone off. Then I got married and moved to Oregon, with a three hour time zone difference. So in order to call her at 5:30 I have to dial the phone at 2:30 my time. Yes, I have set my alarm for 2:30 just so I can call her for a scalloped corn recipe.

Every year I can't believe I'm doing it again, but some traditions are just too good to let go.