Luck of the Pot

Jeanna GLeave a comment

I was at a Friendsgiving on Sunday evening, and it was a potluck. I brought stuffing…easy to identify. Some other dishes, however, got me thinking about the true meaning of the word “potluck.”  Like you could really be pressing your luck by trying some of these mysterious concoctions! 

One pot was filled with a pineapple and cheese casserole, apparently a Thanksgiving table staple in the south. I’d never heard of such a thing, which is delightfully surprising to a self-proclaimed foodie. This introduction to a new recipe also got me excited about the fact that potlucks are making a comeback post-Covid. As someone who grew up on family reunion and church potlucks, I felt a loss when sharing homemade food came to an abrupt stop four years ago. But I digress. 

Later that night I decided to research potlucks. What I found out from my internet search is they have always been about sharing, but not necessarily with friends and family. Back in the day, people would keep their leftovers warm in a pot in case someone in need knocked on the door unexpectedly. During the Great Depression, communities of families would gather their food together to make more nutrient-complete meals for one another. What a beautiful practice! 

I hope that this Thanksgiving brings an opportunity to all of you to share something with someone. Whether it’s a casserole or a loaf of bread to break, or something that costs you nothing, like a smile and a handshake. Share a recipe, an anecdote, a laugh, or a turkey bone wish… that the luck of the pot will always land on your dish. 

Superstitions

Jeanna GLeave a comment

As I was waiting in the intersection to turn left, the light turned amber and the driver of the car coming from the opposite direction kissed his hand and then tapped his car’s ceiling as he sped past. I don’t know what the name for that practice is, but I know I’ve been doing it since I was a kid. But why? Do I think it will prevent me from getting T-boned? Or that it will stop a cop from giving me a ticket? 

I’ve also avoided stepping on cracks for most of my life, I drink out of my Penn State mug for all of football season, and I used to tape a Tootsie Pop wrapper to the strap of my shinguards before each soccer game. Some of my behaviors could probably be better labeled as obsessive-compulsive, rather than superstitious. Even so, what keeps me doing them? I’m sure at some point I felt as though they eased my worries or would bring me good luck. Some, I’ve heard, keep away evil spirits, like tapping my glass on the bar before I take a shot, or tossing a pinch of spilled salt over my left shoulder.  

As Halloween approaches, so do the images of spooky spirits, and I can’t help but get caught up in the superstition of the season. If a black cat crosses my path, will a witch be close behind? Maybe, maybe not, but I’ll be sure to light my Jack-o’-lantern just in case. 

What Doesn’t Kill You…

Jeanna G1 Comment

When I was little, I loved having the attention of my older brothers. They’re 11 and 12 years older, so they had many other interests aside from playtime with their baby sister. Needless to say, whenever I got their attention, I was up for anything…and I mean anything. 

A common activity was being timed on how fast I could do things for them. “Go get me a soda! I’ll time you!”

Or when we’d play hide and seek and they’d stuff me under the couch cushions and sit on me and act like they didn’t know where I was. 

Then there was that time Jon tore up the neighbor’s yard on his dirt bike while I was riding piggyback. 

Or that time they both got tired of babysitting, so they threw me in the backseat of the car for a joyride. They pulled so many donuts in a cul-de-sac that I’m still unable to get on carnival rides. 

But my favorite activity was playing Monster with Joe. The story line was always that he was the Monster, like as in Frankenstein’s, and someone was always trying to take away his Dolly (yours truly), so he had to keep me away from the bad guys. He’d whip me around in circles by one arm and then let go. I’d fly and roll across the yard and then run back for more. 

Now I know what you must be thinking… You wish you had brothers like mine, don’t you?