Someone usually gave my Daddy a 20-pound or sometimes a 25-pound turkey every year, several days before Thanksgiving. My father was an independent truck driver who delivered coal during the day and hauled trash in the evenings three or more times a week. It was not easy for him to feed and clothe nine children, but he never complained. All nine of us started cleaning our house the day before Thanksgiving.
My five brothers did the heavy cleaning, washing all of the windows downstairs, which included washing the large picture window that looked out at the front porch and the medium-size cherry tree that leaned against the porch. The cherry tree brought forth beautiful pink blossoms in the spring, but it never gave us any cherries to eat or for Mom to make cherry pies.
Mom, my three sisters and I were working into the evening the day before Thanksgiving chopping onions and celery and large green bell peppers along with a stalk of celery.
A dozen white potatoes were peeled and cut up and boiled for potato salad. Along with six eggs, also boiled for the potato salad. Ten large sweet potatoes received a similar peel to make several of Mom’s delicious sweet potato pies. A pound of butter was set aside in readiness for the coming pound cake.
