Beanery Online Literary Magazine

November 24, 2011

Wait Until the Coffee’s Poured

Filed under: WR/BW JAN — beanerywriters @ 12:34 am
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BEANERY ONLINE LITERARY MAGAZINE

WAIT UNTIL THE COFFEE’S POURED

Janice McLaughlin

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

For holiday meals, the same rules apply

All families have them, there is good reason why.

Wash your hands before sitting, keep elbows off the table

Children should be seen not heard,

Don’t call your cousin a nerd.

Don’t complain because the kitchen swelters.

And whatever you do — don’t interrupt your elders.

No slurping, burping, or passing gas

If you need something, ask someone to pass.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

     It was Thanksgiving, I was about fourteen, and of course my two obnoxious (male) cousins were there, as well as three female cousins. It was the usual huge family celebration with both my Mother’s and Dad’s parents and siblings, and their husbands,   wives, and their children.

     A meal that took more than a day to prepare was usually over in about an hour.

     This time it was cut short. I didn’t ask someone to pass and I reached for the olives.

At the same moment that I reached, someone was pouring (boiling) coffee into a cup.

My arm (of course) was between the cup and the coffee—that’s why you always ask someone to pass.

     I guess I screamed, I really don’t remember that, or the rest of the day. I was wearing a wool sweater; someone pulled it off—along with most of the skin on my arm.  I guess my Dad and Mom took me to the hospital, and I had to spend several days there.

     I suppose the party went on without me, I’m sure the whole group didn’t go to the hospital. 

     I do remember weeks, or months, of returning to the hospital to have the dressing taken off, the burnt skin debraided, and a new dressing applied. I was in a lot of pain for a long time, but I was grafted and I don’t have much of a scar.

     Also, I do remember the smell of my burnt skin. People always say it’s an awful smell—maybe I was just hungry, but I thought it smelled pretty good. YUK!

November 23, 2010

Wait Until the Coffee’s Poured

BEANERY ONLINE LITERARY MAGAZINE

WAIT UNTIL THE COFFEE’S POURED

Janice McLaughlin

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

For holiday meals, the same rules apply

All families have them, there is good reason why.

Wash your hands before sitting, keep elbows off the table

Children should be seen not heard,

Don’t call your cousin a nerd.

Don’t complain because the kitchen swelters.

And whatever you do — don’t interrupt your elders.

No slurping, burping, or passing gas

If you need something, ask someone to pass.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

     It was Thanksgiving, I was about fourteen. Of course my two obnoxious (male) cousins were there, as well as three female cousins. It was the usual huge family celebration with both my Mother’s and Dad’s parents and siblings, and their husbands, wives, and their children.

     A meal that took more than a day to prepare was usually over in about an hour. This time it was cut short.

     I didn’t ask someone to pass the olives. I reached for them. At that moment someone was (more…)

November 28, 2008

“WORLD CHANGES”

BEANERY ONLINE LITERARY MAGAZINE
“WORLD CHANGES”
THE PHOTODOCTOR

It’s Thanksgiving evening, and the Beanery Writers hope that you had a great turkey day. A friend of mine (yes, readers, I actually DO have friends!) E-mailed me a link that demonstrates one direction that writing can take. Visit it and enjoy:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nWwesAMPsLI

Meanwhile, enjoy these Thanksgiving stories:

A THANKSGIVING POEM

THE SNITTY CAT LIKES PUMPKIN PIE?

LEFTOVER TURKEY

To read a post about the birthmother in LEFTOVER TURKEY:

PENNSYLVANIA WEDDING, (LAMOINE) MAINE ROOTS

We hope you enjoy tonight’s post, a poem by our visitor-writer, The Photodoctor.

“World Changes”
by The Photodoctor

had a polaroid
had a disc
had a 35
had a 120
had a 4×5
talents expanded
world changes
in a key stroke (more…)

November 27, 2008

A THANKSGIVING POEM

Filed under: WR/V KERRY — beanerywriters @ 2:59 am
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BEANERY ONLINE LITERARY MAGAZINE

A THANKSGIVING POEM

HUGH KERRY

On my holiday there’s too many great deceits,
“Leave it to beaver,” style songs that sing
With candle lights and songs of glory
Yet reality says it’s not the story
 
A working class man who struggles today
Earning (more…)

November 26, 2008

THANKSGIVING READINGS & GREETINGS

BEANERY ONLINE LITERARY MAGAZINE

 

HAPPY THANKSGIVING

From the

BEANERY WRITERS GROUP

 

 

TWO THANKSGIVING STORIES:

THE SNITTY CAT LIKES PUMPKIN PIE?

LEFTOVER TURKEY

 

To read a post about the birthmother in LEFTOVER TURKEY:

PENNSYLVANIA WEDDING, (LAMOINE) MAINE ROOTS

 

 

ADDITIONAL READING:

RIDING THE RAILS: A True Story

“DATING WHEN FIFTY-SOME:” A Guy’s Version

LEAF-PEEPING: Autumn Leaves

THOUGHTS FOR DAVID

JUST ANOTHER WEEKEND IN PARADISE

AND NOW, THE FORECAST

THE ART OF THE INTERVIEW: Things Writers Should Know

MY HAPPY PLACE

DAVID PAGE: Notes from St. David’s Writer’s Conference

LOBSTER-TALES

FLASHY MOON EXPLOSIONS

November 22, 2007

LEFTOVER TURKEY

Filed under: WR/BW CAROLYN — beanerywriters @ 3:13 am
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—written by Carolyn C. Holland
A decade ago our family ate “leftover” Turkey the day after Thanksgiving. Nothing unusual, you might say. However, this leftover turkey never made it to the oven on Thanksgiving Day. As I was preparing it, my husband Monte and I received a phone call that caused us to return the turkey to the refrigerator, get in our car and drive forty-five minutes to a hospital in an adjacent county.
We spent the holiday sitting in the family waiting room of the Westmoreland Hospital maternity ward. While there, we gratefully satisfied ourselves with meager Thanksgiving Day trappings in the hospital cafeteria, and even unsuccessfully tried to locate an open store for some better fixings.
For a month we had been on “maternity call.” Every activity we planned had the preface, “If we don’t get the call, we will be there—but if we do get the call, we won’t make it to” the engagement.
Grandparents understand this.
“The” call came on Thanksgiving Day. Our daughter, Sandra, and her husband, Greg, were expecting our first grandchild to arrive. We waited for the birth with the other set of grandparents.
While at the hospital, I reminisced about another time, when another food was put aside for a baby’s arrival… (more…)