Which brings me to the thought for the week...what are you having this Thanksgiving? And...can you give me ideas of something easy, hot, and different that I can bring to a holiday party in two weeks? This query brings to mind the pot luck suppers I attended back in our small town in New Hampshire. Here is an excerpt from DESTINY'S MOUNTAIN and harps on Destiny's choice of ...well, you'll just have to read it:
Destiny couldn’t wait to tell Josie everything. She found the perfect chance when Josie called and invited her to a potluck supper at the firehouse.
“You can’t stay cooped up forever. You’ve been so unhappy.”
“Please. Change the subject.”
“Fine, but please come. We’re hosting the annual pot-luck supper for local deer hunters.”
“And you guys do this, why?”
“To raise money for a new ambulance. Everyone brings something in a casserole or crock-pot, and we bake brownies at the station.”
“Okay, I’ll be there. What can I bring? Too late to cook.”
“A beverage? We always run dry,” Josie said.
After racing home and cleaning up, she threw on some comfortable clothes then stopped at the corner store for a keg of beer. When she showed up at the firehouse with a keg of ice-cold beer, Pete Thayer was the first to reach her and her burden.
“Let me help you with this, sweetheart.” Even with his flirty words, she’d been happy to have anyone carry the keg. Catching her by surprise, Pete had covered her hands with his while giving her a wicked smile.
“Thanks,” Destiny mumbled before she pulled her hands away from his strong grasp and went to find her friend. She offered to help in the kitchen. Carrying a large bowl of potato salad toward the buffet, the fire alarm shrieked. She felt the men’s stares as she bobbled the bowl. She hugged the bowl to her chest, took a breath, and then set it on the table. Hands free, she clutched one over her thudding heart.
“That’s loud enough to wake the dead.”
The men groaned then bolted toward the fire trucks parked outside. Josie raced from the kitchen, threw her apron at Destiny, and jumped inside the ambulance. Destiny waved goodbye as the speaker sputtered news about the call, and retreated into the kitchen.
I will not be drinking beer tomorrow, but hubby will when he enjoys his football games. We are having lobster tails this year, a belated birthday celebration for me, brought to us by CIVITAN, a local professional civic organization in Raleigh, North Carolina who hold an annual lobster fundraiser. So, fill up the stock pot, melt the butter, and pass the cloeslaw while we enjoy our New England fare, in the balmy south.
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