Posted on Dec 8, 2015
Family oriented holidays and military service often collide.
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Every year, while my husband and I were serving, we'd invite most every single member of our units who had no family nearby, to join us in our celebrations.
Keep in mind, I was born and raised in South Texas, in a rural environment, where I learned all sorts of interesting skills, like shooting snakes, rounding up stubborn animals, using horses as diving boards into ponds, and what wood makes the best smoking for barbecue, while the husband was born and raised just outside of New York, where he grew up in a large Jewish family, that could tell you exactly which Deli had the best Ruben sandwich, and just how to make the perfect Latkes.
It was an interesting first year of marriage to say the least, but I digress. We celebrated family events with joyful abandon, once we figured out that the husband wasn't so Orthodox, and I wasn't so attached to bacon as I thought.
Our first Thanksgiving, we had four guests, who nervously sat there, unsure of what to do, what to wear and what to say as the husband and I bellowed to each other from across the house or the yard, where I was smoking a turkey and he was creating Pierogis. If it wasn't for mass consumption of Southern Comfort laced Egg Nog, I'm not sure that we could have kept the guests from running for the hills that day.
The next event, we had figured it out. They guests... all seven, were met at the door with alcohol and smiles, shoved into chairs before a television with a football game on it, and platters of finger foods ready and waiting. We were more relaxed, they were more relaxed, and we felt we'd found our niche.
To this day, we invite those around us to share with us, but I've come to realize, our brand of holidays might not be for everyone, and I wonder how many young minds we have totally screwed up by having a Menorah on the table, Latkes and Pierogis mixed in with the stuffing and deviled eggs, and Chaunnuka gelt in a bowl on the finger food platter, right next to the Jalapeno Poppers. Too much?
.
Keep in mind, I was born and raised in South Texas, in a rural environment, where I learned all sorts of interesting skills, like shooting snakes, rounding up stubborn animals, using horses as diving boards into ponds, and what wood makes the best smoking for barbecue, while the husband was born and raised just outside of New York, where he grew up in a large Jewish family, that could tell you exactly which Deli had the best Ruben sandwich, and just how to make the perfect Latkes.
It was an interesting first year of marriage to say the least, but I digress. We celebrated family events with joyful abandon, once we figured out that the husband wasn't so Orthodox, and I wasn't so attached to bacon as I thought.
Our first Thanksgiving, we had four guests, who nervously sat there, unsure of what to do, what to wear and what to say as the husband and I bellowed to each other from across the house or the yard, where I was smoking a turkey and he was creating Pierogis. If it wasn't for mass consumption of Southern Comfort laced Egg Nog, I'm not sure that we could have kept the guests from running for the hills that day.
The next event, we had figured it out. They guests... all seven, were met at the door with alcohol and smiles, shoved into chairs before a television with a football game on it, and platters of finger foods ready and waiting. We were more relaxed, they were more relaxed, and we felt we'd found our niche.
To this day, we invite those around us to share with us, but I've come to realize, our brand of holidays might not be for everyone, and I wonder how many young minds we have totally screwed up by having a Menorah on the table, Latkes and Pierogis mixed in with the stuffing and deviled eggs, and Chaunnuka gelt in a bowl on the finger food platter, right next to the Jalapeno Poppers. Too much?
.
Posted 9 y ago
Responses: 2
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