I might have mentioned on the Twitter once or twice that we’re doing something different for Thanksgiving this year: Celebrating at the BEACH.

Yep, tomorrow my Beloved will cook turkey with all the trimmings in a high-rise rental condo overlooking the Gulf of Mexico.

(Your jealousy is entirely justified.)

(I apologize for gloating.)

(Not really.)

So we’re looking forward to a wonderful weekend. But after we arrived last night, Hannah asked if we’d brought “the” tablecloth. It took me a second to remember, but then I was horrified:

WE FORGOT THE HAND TURKEY TABLECLOTH!

To understand the significance of this mistake, you’ll need to read my post from last year.

(And when we get home, we’re totally dragging it up from the basement and doing the tradition late.)

***

A turkey on the tablecloth is worth two in the oven.

(Or something like that)

Originally posted November 26, 2008

Today I brought The Tablecloth up from the basement. The Tablecloth has been a tradition for only three years in our house, but a potent tradition it is.

Please prepare yourself for the crafty genius that you are about to witness. Yes, I did the big lettering All By My Self.

What this is, is a plain gold polyester tablecloth (because the ironing, it is not my friend). In 2005, I used fabric paint to write, “I’M THANKFUL” in the center. And then before we sat down to Thanksgiving dinner, I put out fabric pens for everyone. We all traced our hands, made them into turkeys, colored them, and wrote what we were thankful for on the body.

We’ve done this every Thanksgiving since. Every guest at the table does a hand turkey. Except babies. We have one baby foot turkey on the table (my nephew Jack’s), and we’ll have another this year (his little brother Grant’s).

Grownups transcribe whatever the non-writing kids say.

In case you can’t tell, this is what Abby was thankful for when she was four: “For my toys and stuff and water and milk.”

The previous year her cousin Connor shared his gratitude at age three:

For hats.

Hannah has expressed thanks for God, while LC mentioned video games last year. We expect her to become a missionary. We hope to keep him out of reform school. (I’m totally kidding.) (Kind of.)

Of course the adults also honestly express our gratitude – for even the little things in life.

In 2006, I was thankful for love and acceptance and Oreos and M&M’s Dark.

Because those particular “little things” are definitely gifts from heaven.

My sister, brother-in-law and one son last year:

She had her baby Grant eight days later.

One thing we’ve enjoyed about this tradition is its effect on our guests. My brother-in-law’s parents come visit them every Thanksgiving and join us all here for dinner. Christine filled all the space on her turkey. Ron was a little more to the point.

This year they’ll do their third hand turkeys. I think it means a lot to them to be included.

Personally, I look at this tablecloth as a record. A diary or fabric blog of sorts. It’s a snapshot of our meal together. Each year, we can go back and read the turkeys (hee. read the turkeys) and be reminded of who ate with us, what was going on in their lives, and in the case of the kids, how big they were.

Sometimes touching, often funny, our hand turkeys mark our Thanksgiving.

What are your favorite Thanksgiving traditions?