Let's reminisce about Thanksgivings past. The one that comes to mind was in 1975. At the time, we were living in a house in Roselawn. It was owned by the state because they were buying up properties to build the Ronald Reagan Hwy. It actually took thirty years for the road to be built, but for the few years I lived there, with my mom and two sisters, the rent was dirt cheap.
This Thanksgiving in particular, the oven was broken. Not dead, but would only go up to about 200 degrees. None of us knew how to fix anything, and bringing in someone to fix it was definitely not something we could afford, so we would always learn to work around whatever the circumstance was.
So we cooked a turkey for like 12 hours until it was done. We had dinner at 2 a.m. I can't remember who all was there besides the four of us, but there were a lot of our friends there. Since it was so late, all of our friends had already fulfilled their family obligations, and they were all with us. It was the greatest dinner party of all time.
Living in that house taught me how to make lemonade when life gave us a lemon.
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