Thanksgiving Memories

Autumn has always been my favorite season. Maybe it is because I have a November birthday, but there is something about crunchy leaves on the ground, the smell of wood fires burning and the taste of sweet apple cider.

When I was a little girl, my favorite holiday was Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving would bring relatives to town and heaps of food to our table. For five days, our house would turn into a chaotic, fun-filled wonderland. My two older sisters would post up in the kitchen, helping Mom out with whatever she needed. But Caroline and I (the two youngest) would race around with our cousins, laughing our heads off, trying to sneak bites of whatever we could get away with.

With our older sisters whipping up dishes, Caro and I were bestowed with what we thought was the most important job… churning our homemade butter. Every year, Mom would dust off her vintage butter churn that she had used when she was our age.

Fresh, homemade butter was a staple during the holidays, but for some reason, I remember it most on Thanksgiving. That evening, we would indulge in piles of turkey, fresh cranberry sauce, stuffing and more. However, our prized homemade butter still managed to stick out as one of the best parts of the feast.