Hope nobody there has been feeling sorry for me,
stuck here in the middle of a bunch of Thanksgiving-illiterates, as by this
evening I will have commemorated my third Thanksgiving celebration. I am up
early checking out some weather stuff: it is currently -3 degrees, sunrise
predicted for 7:55 with sunset at 15:58. How about that?! (You kind of have to
love military time, as there is never any question about what is a.m. and what
is p.m.)
Talking about people being oblivious to a
different country’s national holidays, I’ll bet you didn’t know that today is
Scotland’s National Day* – St. Andrew’s Day. St. Andrew, brother of Simon Peter,
is their patron saint – plus that of a
bunch of other countries, as well. Supposedly, before he was martyred on an
x-shaped cross (called a saltire) – because he did not deem himself worthy to
die in the same way that Jesus did – he preached along the Black Sea and the Dnieper and Volga rivers, as far as Kiev and Novgorod.
Right.
*[The United Kingdom has no one single national
holiday, rather a number of days associated with the constituent countries of the UK – including: St George’s Day in England, St Andrew’s Day in Scotland, St
Patrick’s Day in Northern Ireland and St David’s Day in Wales. See – you learn
something new every day!]
I had met Loraine and her husband, Marc, on the very
first day of school in September, up at Raddlebarn. (Their son, Lukas, an only
child of older parents, is one of Katya’s best mates. See Day 67.) They are
quite a striking couple as she is a tall, round, engaging woman while he is short,
thin, rather studious looking, and definitely reserved - quite the pair. Like
Leah, Loraine is a buxom blonde, also from California. When we began to talk I was
all prepared for the sound of American English to roll out of her mouth, but to
my surprise it had a one hundred percent genuine British Brummy inflection. She
told me she had been in England twelve years. (Is that how I’ll sound if I hang
around here for that many years?!)
Loraine is an instructor at a college where she
teaches persons with dyslexia, while her husband is in computer programing. I
believe he is shy with strangers and so we actually we never spoke during the
evening. (I normally would have gone out of my place to engage him, but I was
feeling rather out-of-it/poorly myself, not my usual social-butterfly self.) As
for Lucas, he has pretty-long blond locks cut in sort of a page boy style. I
could tell from his behavior last night that he is used to minimum direction
and does as he pleases. Thankfully, ‘as he pleases’ also pleases his parents,
apparently – a good kid with his mom’s winning personality.
In conversing with Loraine today, she admitted
that Thanksgiving has always been one of her favorite holiday – ever since she
was a kid. You sure could tell that with how much work she put into this event –
she mostly pulled it off single-handedly. Leah was lamenting that a number of
persons who committed to coming out tonight, called in at the last minute and
reneged. The amount of delicious food was staggering. For the thirty odd
persons who were there (mostly friends, several revered school teachers, a few
relatives) it was amazing to me just how much food did NOT get eaten. There was
so much left remaining after all the grazing came to an end. Too many
incredible dishes and only so much you can load into your stomach, I guess. (I decided
to make something I assumed most persons wouldn’t have had before – broccoli
salad with raisins and bacon. It seemed to be well received. Leah made the
moistest turkey EVER and my favorite – yam casserole!)
Definitely a family affair, the banquet took place
in the Dame Elizabeth Hall, held by the Bourneville Village Trust, quite close
to Selly Oak. (Reminded me a lot of the hall where the Anderson’s hold their extended
family Thanksgiving dinner in South Jordan each year). Dame Elizabeth Mary Cadbury
was an English philanthropist and wife of George Cadbury, the chocolate
manufacturer. Born in London, she was one of ten children of the Quaker, aka Society of Friends, company
director and stockbroker, John
Taylor, and his wife, Mary Jane. Elizabeth
grew up in an affluent family background – her parents were active temperance
crusaders, and enthusiasts for adult education. She married George
Cadbury, then a widower with five children, and they went on to have six more
children together. As you can imagine, with
the background they had both come from, they were great philanthropists - the
greatest thing being their creation of what is today Bourneville (an especially
nice neighborhood of Birmingham).
George and his
brother had taken over their father’s small cocoa and drinking chocolate
establishment. As their central city premises were no longer
large enough, the two brothers purchased land in the countryside, 4 miles out
of Birmingham (at that time). Despite this the area had excellent canal and
railway access, and they soon embarked on the building of a new factory. Due to his Quaker beliefs, George determined, when he
took over the family business that he would pursue business neither as an end
in itself nor as a route to individual riches but as a means of serving
humanity and extending God's kingdom. One way he did this was by providing decent
quality homes in a healthy environment which could be afforded by the industrial
workers of his own factory. The character of George and his factory were
immortalized by Roald Dahl in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Today there is
fun themed destination not far from where I live called Cadbury World: ‘uncover
a world of chocolate delights and enjoy a fascinating fun-packed day. Learn how
your favorite confectionery is made, play in chocolate rain, and create your
own taste sensation covered in warm liquid Cadbury Dairy Milk. With fourteen
amazing zones, there’s something for everyone.’ Haven’t been there yet –
understand it’s a bit expensive – but definitely on my list of Must-Dos!
Ollieism_ I had never been aware of this before,
but I caught Oliver red-handedly trying to bait me tonight. We had just come
into the hall and gotten settled where we going to sit (his parents had gone
off to do this or that). Just Oliver and I were sitting there at the table, when
he said, out of the blue, with the obvious, clear intention of provocation,
‘that’s a boy’s coat’ (you’re wearing.) Perhaps it is a boy’s jacket (I know
Oliver overheard his mom say so to me awhile back in conversation), I dunno,
and really don’t care – I’m just content with the fact that it keeps me warm,
and I happen to LIKE how it looks, or I wouldn’t have gotten it (at a charity shop,
of course - brand new . . . and the price was right!) Oh, silly boy, a
stirrer-upper, eh? Well, I’ve got your number!
Photos_
1- St Andrew
2- wild child, Lukas, with his mom, Loraine, who
hosted tonight’s feast
3- Thanksgiving feast #3 – and, of course, as is ALWAYS
true, the last is the best of all the rest!
4- friends (not to be confused with the ‘Society
of . . . ’)
5- dessert table – in that jug is custard, a warm
pouring yummy topping with which British people douse every cake, pie, and pudding
(a pudding here, you may be aware, is like a moist fruit cake – Leah told me to
watch out if I was considering getting any amongst the many for available now
for the holidays, as they inevitably are loaded with tons of liquor)
6- Cadbury World
7- controversial item
7- controversial item
