uggs australia So I Say Thank You
It had started in the early hours of the morning, even the day before. Turkeys’ washed, dressed, ready in pans to be shoved in the oven and cooked first. They would take the most time and be the stars of the whole meal. That and the hams. The large restaurant ovens were a boon that when Eileen had first envisioned the place, were a well thought out addition. Second hand that they might be, they still did the job.
The burners atop were filled with the pots that once they had finished making breakfast, were appropriated for other things. Potatoes, turnips, green beans, you name it. Boiled and mashed, steamed, it was all a matter of timing. People who had the misfortune of going past the kitchen and nothing pressing to do were drafted into service by Kaylee and Abigail. Bread to be made, buns to be rolled out and baked, carrots to peel and coin, green bean ends to cut, sweet potatoes to cut and prepare for the pies and other goods that would be put out for the people who were residing here be they new arrivals or ones who had been here since day one.
Like most thanksgivings, this one would still be celebrating the season and being thankful for what they have no matter how little it might be. But unlike others, this one wouldn’t be handing out plates, heaped high with food. Rations are small. There’s a little bit of everything being doled out by the folks who man the pots, slice the turkey’s and spoon out the gravy. Just because it’s a special meal doesn’t mean that there’s more of it.
Abigail’s behind the huge pot with the stuffing, a couple small spoonfuls given out to go with the other food that’s being dished out, plates washed as soon as they’re handed back and used again. Others who have volunteered are doing the same, small portions. But the end result is a meal of thanks, provided by Smedley foremost, and the rest by the Ferry that makes the castle smell divine and festive.
Kendall has been sleeping most of the day. It’s mainly because ever since he was little, he’s been more or less barred from the kitchen when major cooking was being done in there, as he once accidentally caused an explosion when he tried to ‘help’. Also, he plans on giving a show to everyone for entertainment, so keeping his energy levels up is important! When the food is set on the table, however, he’s one of the first ones there, the little punk.
Liza had done a fine job of focusing on helping with the food. She even volunteered to help, and she was cheerfully doling out mashed potatoes, which said a bit about her current mood. While she was happily helping and offering a generous helping of smiles to go along with the small portions of food, she was doing her best not to think of the fact that Thanksgiving was usually a family time.
Thanksgiving really never was celebrated in Australia.
AS far as holidays go, it’s a purely American one, celebrating Americans landing in America and surviving their first horrible winter with a bountiful harvest the next fall.
At least, that’s what Charlie Brown’s Thanksgiving taught Jaiden, the few times he caught it.
While it could be argued that Jaiden has little to be thankful for, what with his girlfriend being in a coma that she can’t wake from due to being lost in the dream somewhere, he has to admit that aside from that one major problem, there is a hell of a lot to be thankful for, which is why he made the trip upriver in the wee hours of the morning on a rented bass boat loaded to the gills with canned goods and things like that. A few pumpkin pies and pecan pies too, were spirited amongst the stuff, a few assorted toys and games and, yes, even a football, worn and well used one of those oblong American jobs, not the correct round version, to give the guys something to do while dinner cooked and a focus for any energy that needed to be burned off.
As a semi decent cook, after unloading he was given a knife, a pot, and a pile of potatoes and told to start skinning, which he did without a complaint. Working in the kitchen is fairly cathartic, sometimes, taking his mind off of things that don’t matter and focus on the things that do. He mans a pot with the mashed potatoes, right next to Abigail, giving grins to everyone, despite how tired he really is.
Magnes, wearing an orange t shirt with little scale designs, indicating that it’s an Aquaman shirt, under his unzipped black leather jacket, came over with anyone else who wasn’t already on the island. He has a large red bag on his back, zipped up and oddly shaped. It’s one of those food heating bags. “I brought as much as I could. Four taco pies, two cheese pizzas with herbs and everything on them, with pepperoni and cheese stuffed crust. And I made this pan of banana pudding.” he nods down to the large foil covered pan in his hands, looking for a place to sit things.
Sitting at one of the tables looking a touch dejected is the blind girl named Nora those she seems closest to not in the room. Someone has been kind enough to set her own and to gather her a plate, but then abandoned her once more to their own devices helping to cut and pass out food. A noble enough cause, of course.
Currently the teen is bundled up in a too big Rangers jersey cuffed a couple of times at the wrists, jeans, Ugg boots. She wears the sunglasses that Howard gave her on top of the bandages over her eyes. She’s trying to go around the “clock” of the plate to figure out what’s what a tentative finger tapping the food at each “hour” then going to her mouth to taste it. Unfortunately, someone put yams on her plate, and she hastily grabs a napkin to spit the little bit back out. Not a yam fan, this one.
Next to Abby perched on a chair, a silent toddler stands with wide pale eyes, watching as people pass. Her expression clearly asks, ‘ How did she end up getting drawn into this?’ It’s a tiny blonde, who has been often in the company of Kaylee Thatcher, though her impromptu guardian is strangely absent for the moment, leaving the tiny girl in Abby’s care.
Little fingers pick up a half of a roll that’s been buttered and leans out shyly, with head turned away, arm stretching out in offering to each person.
Who wouldn’t find a toddler serving rolls cute?
Today, Emily is even dressed up, in a frilly pink dress and a pair of bright blue shoes too big for her, but she was a big girl and picked them herself from the donation. Emily tried to tell Abby so by sitting down and lifting a foot and showing. She likes her blue shoes.
Nelly was among the volunteers as well, helping was certainly a better choice than spending the day cramped in her room. While not exactly a whiz in the kitchen, bread baking and slicing dicing vegetables were things she could handle. She’s left the rationing of the food to the others however and instead made her way out into the room, plate in one hand with the other stuffed into the pocket of her sweater. A glance is cast around the room before settling on Kendall, whom she quickly heads over and sits beside. He was a semi familiar face at least. Though she has cleaned up from her time in the kitchen, she hasn’t dressed particularly special for the occasion, dressed in her usual jeans and hoody.
Technically, Barbara had had more than her share of things to do over the course of thanks gicing day. But to be entirely truthful, helping to prepare the meal had felt far more at home to her than anything else, so she had devoted herself to that rather wholly almost as soon as the cooking had begun. A warm stew might not be what everyone would pick to go with Thanksgiving dinner, but alongside the yams she’s prepared, they serve as her addition to the meal. THe ingrediants had been speifically request days ago, and while there wasn’t terribly much to go around, it was something.
Smiling as she hands out a serving, she sighs and smiles. It’s a smiliar feeling, like so many other things about Pollepel it reminded her of Thompson in so many ways, and on a day like this it only servers to warm her heart.
Kendall sees Nora, and is suddenly reminded of something. Moving to sit down next to her, he tilts his head and mutters under his breath, staring intently at her. If anyone has really good hearing, they might hear a quote from the Bible about making the blind see. He already accomplished something Jesus did once already, so another should work too even though it’s not actually real.
Along the line folks go, some disappointed by the lack of a little more food, others are more than happy with whatever it is that they can managed to get, knowing that tomorrow it goes back to what they’ve been eating the whole time. The woman who’s plate is extended out to Emily to get the piece of bread smiles at the young girl before moving on to let Jaiden dish out some potatoes since Abigail’s putting down the spoon to go take the pizza’s from Magnes.
“The kids will love you. We got some picky kids who can’t fathom the turkey or the ham and would rather starve than eat” They’ll cut the pieces up small, maybe take some pizza out to the folks who are unable to come in because they are riding patrol. Pizza’s easier to eat out there than a plate of food. “You need to be careful flying in magnes. You don’t want to be responsible for this place being found” She points out.
“The taco pies are just like tacos, just pie shaped with a bit more meat. I was trying to make something easily transportable, so I could bring as much as I could.” Magnes sits the banana pudding at an empty spot on the table, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, I just came with everyone else, don’t want to lead FRONTLINE to our doorstep.”
He looks up at Barbara, raising an eyebrow. “Niki? Or, uh, Tracy? I’m a little confused which one are you?” he asks over to her, then jumps back a bit in surprise. “Kendall?! Aren’t you, like, dead?”
The redheaded sister looks over at Magnes with a quirked eyebrow, almost failing to properly fill one Ferryman’s bowl with stew. It seems more people know her sisters than she realises, and the look of surprise on her face converys that rather well. Shaking her head, she laughs a little. “Nither, I’m afraid. My name is Barbara, I hope my sisters have treated you well,” she offers with a smile. Tilting her head back, she points to her hair. “Apparently I’m the only redhead of the bunch.” Dyed, sure, but whatever. “Can I get you something?”
Suddenly, Nora’s bowed head comes up, her hand going to her face with the sunglasses, fingers contacting with the shades so they clatter to the table and then the bench. But then fingers pat her gauzed face and she makes a choked little sound in the back of her throat, standing up and stepping away a little too gracefully for someone who can’t see.
“I don’t I she stutters, then suddenly her hands reach out blindly once more, groping for the table she’d just stepped away from, fingers landing in the middle of her mashed potatoes before they curl into a fist that slams down a couple of inches to the right when they come back down. “God damn it.”