I went to the Texas Panhandle to visit my parents for Thanksgiving. If you can imagine, poor Gar driving a small car with three teenage girls, then you can imagine the highlight of my trip.
When we left Dallas at 9 AM, it was a balmy 80 degrees. When we arrived in Amarillo, it was already down to 65. Amarillo, however, wasn’t our final resting place. We had to cruise south down Interstate 27 for a few miles to get to Canyon.
The aforementioned three teenagers stayed with me Tuesday night so we could get an early start on Wednesday. Can I get a show of hands from anyone who has experienced Texas Highway 287? It must be in the top 5 list of most boring highways ever constructed by the highway building folks. God bless ‘em.
Luckily this time around I did have my trusty XM Satellite Radio to protect me from the 60 mile stretch of rode where the only FM signal comes from the Mariachi Baptist Country Revival Farm Report Clinic From Hell (complete with occasional static).
Thanksgiving morning in Canyon it was almost 20 degrees. I think 17 was the low. To have started off in the upper 70’s on Wednesday and be brought into the 20’s on Thursday, I almost stayed in bed. I thought Hell had frozen over anyway so all kinds of cool things were about to be coming my way.
My dad showed me how to make Tiger Juice. Apparently he learned it from watching some cooking show (I secretly worry about him). Best I can tell, it’s a mix of 50/50 mayonnaise and horseradish. Wednesday night we had it on potato chips. Friday I had it on a roast beef sandwich. Sometime this week, I’ll attempt to make my own.
I helped my dad make the turkey. It’s probably the last time that will happen. Luckily he made brisket too. But that, to me, is what Thanksgiving is all about. It’s not the food, but the fun. My dad and I had fun laughing at the little pop-up thermometer in the turkey that wouldn’t pop while my mother’s complaints about our ineptness reached a fevered pitch. We burnt the dressing that Mom made because it was in the same pan as the turkey with the pop-up thermometer that wouldn’t pop.
On Friday we rested. On Saturday we removed the dealership sticker from the back of my car. Another thing cool about my dad is his inability to be bored and to think of fun and interesting projects. There has been no other time than Saturday that so much fun has been had by any two people in removing a dealership tag from the back of a car. I threatened to take pictures, but was afraid it would ruin the moment.
You have to envision a blow dryer which has been rewired and taped together with electrical tape (it quit working and my dad “fixed” it). At least 3 sets of extension cords that have also been taped together (mostly with electrical tape) and leading into the house. And a father and son standing behind a new car trying to heat up the glue on a dealership tag with a hair dryer so they can remove it. I’ll wait while you formulate your imaginations.
We got the thing removed and I was quite proud. We even used WD-40 and a smattering of paper towels to clean up the vestiges of super duper double sided tape (yes, it hadn’t been glued at all).
On Sunday, we drove back home (well I drove back home and the 3 teenagers slept). There were signs everywhere that warned of high fire danger. Just south of Vernon we did see smoke and smell the cleansing smell of burning grass.
I was home by 5 and watched the second DVD of Lost season 6. I’m sad to be home alone. Sometimes I like being alone. Today, I don’t. Therefore, I’d appreciate you all spending a moment of silence in appreciation of my lonely self. I’ll be here all week.