Spit of a Minute: An irreconcilable life. by Dixie Burns

Author:Dixie Burns [Burns, Dixie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Under the Live Oak Publishing
Published: 2013-12-26T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20 - Thanksgiving Dinner:

Eli

We owe the modern concept of Thanksgiving to a woman named Sarah Josepha Hale. Hale, editor of Godey's Lady's Book and author of the famous "Mary Had a Little Lamb" nursery rhyme, spent 40 years advocating for a national, annual Thanksgiving holiday.

By Jennifer Rosenberg, About.com Guide

“Bring all them things back to the kitchen, Harry.” Eli pulled up to the curb in front of his Holly Street home to find his friend, Harry-the-Hat, sitting in his old vegetable truck. Harry had not been able to remain in the employ of Happy Dairy as had Eli. The restrictions on his time and activities were too much for him. That, plus he missed the constant supply of home-brew and the feeling he was getting away with something.

He and Eli were still friends as Eli was the closest thing to family Harry had. It was Eli who first dubbed him, Harry-the-Hat for few had ever seen him without a hat. He favored white straw Panamas, but in a pinch, he’d wear anything that covered his bald head. Today, he’d be included in plans for a real Thanksgiving dinner with Eli’s family. Harry usually avoided all such entanglements, but Eli had begged him to attend and act as a buffer against Eli’s brother, Luke. Harry couldn’t think why Eli was so head up over this Thanksgiving business. Eli seemed nervous and excited about the whole affair. Harry rose to the occasion. He was wearing his Panama and brand new Duck Head overalls.

“You planning to preach today, Brother Harry?” Eli asked.

“Why, naw. Is they going to be preaching, too?” Harry answered.

“Well, not as I know of. I just thought since you was so dressed up you might be planning on having a word or two for us.” Eli usually paid compliments only when he wanted something. Today, Eli was almost giddy, happy about something, but he didn’t want anybody to know it as if appearing to be happy might make him look foolish.

Harry would have felt out of place had Eli not made fun of him. “Just because you don’t know how to act right, don’t mean ever body else has to look like something the cat drug up. Where you want these turnip greens?”

They entered Eli’s front door. Harry removed his Panama to reveal what few strands of hair he still possessed neatly combed over from his right ear, reaching across the fish-belly white expanse of bald head to the left ear. Eli put his load of yams and snap beans down to avoid dropping them all over the living room in a fit of laughter.

“Queenie. Where you at? You got to see this. Ole Harry done combed his hair for you. Or what’s left of it anyways. Queen ... anybody?”

“I ain’t never coming to another one of your family dinners as long as I live, Eli Fox. I don’t care if your brother decides to carve you up and serve you for dinner. I don’t have to come here to be made light of.

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