A Time to Talk: Holiday crises requires flexibility — even if it’s not traditional

Mary Magee

A Time to Talk

We went shopping before Thanksgiving to buy our turkey and makings for pumpkin pie. In the baking aisle, I looked for the classic Libby’s canned pumpkin, the kind that does not have any other ingredients.

I saw Libby’s pumpkin pie mix, but it already had the sugar and spices added. The space for the plain pumpkin was completely empty.

What? Were they actually out of it?

There was another brand of plain pumpkin called Santiam. Harrumph! I was not ready to buy this unfamiliar brand.

Libby’s was what my mother always used, and what I’d used ever since I learned how to make pie.

I rushed to the checkout area to ask the checkers about it. They explained heavy rains had damaged Libby’s pumpkin farms in Illinois, so their pumpkin was in short supply.

People had been madly hoarding Libby’s plain pumpkin.

I trudged back to the baking aisle, wondering if this was an omen that the holidays were not going to go very smoothly. A woman there was also struggling with the pumpkin dilemma. She and I engaged in several minutes of good-humored debate.

The Libby’s pie mix had sugar syrup and “natural flavors” in it, not ingredients either of us had ever used. She opted for the Santiam pumpkin and encouraged me to do the same.

Standing by with the cart, my amused husband remarked, “Santiam, that’s a company in Oregon, so it’s probably fine.”

Suddenly, it seemed possible that I could make a couple of decent pies without using Libby’s.

Later, when I mixed the Santiam pumpkin, sugar, spices and evaporated milk together, I was pleased with the familiar color and fragrance it evoked. The pie “crisis,” had been averted.

Thanksgiving was going to be perfect after all.

On that special day, our son was home from college, the house was ready and the table was set. The turkey was roasting in perfect time, and we were looking forward to the arrival of our guests. They were dear friends we have known for more than 30 years. Their two grown daughters and a son-in-law were coming with them in one car.

The phone rang.

While sitting at a stop light about a mile from our house, they were hit from behind by an erratic driver who bashed into the rear of their minivan and shattered their back window.

Even worse, the culprit had driven off!

In shock, I drove to meet them at the intersection. They had pulled onto the shoulder, and they were waiting for the police to arrive.

It was cold, rainy and dark. Now this was a real crisis.

Everyone was shaken up. A young couple arrived, and they said they had witnessed the hit-and-run and followed the perpetrator. They reported his license plate number to the police. We hugged them with gratitude.

Meanwhile, the police and the medics arrived, and they did their duty with grace and efficiency.

My husband came to pick up three of our five guests, then returned home to resume cooking while I drove two guests to the emergency room at St. Anthony Hospital.

Even though their care was terrific, it was not turning out to be a perfect Thanksgiving. Hair-raising would be a better word for it.

Finally, we were all able to regroup at the house. We breathed a sigh of relief, and we savored our turkey dinner, which included a delicious cranberry and sour cream jello mold that had survived the crash.

At the most fashionably late Thanksgiving dinner I’d ever experienced, we toasted our family-like friendship and expressed gratitude that the accident hadn’t been worse.

For dessert, there was traditional pumpkin pie.

A Time to Talk columnist Mary Magee can be reached by e-mail at marymagee@harbornet.com.