I recall Thanksgivings past. My mother made sure we put on the feedbag. Gluttony was encouraged.

Mom offered a carefully scripted meal enhanced with much ad-libbing. Turkey and stuffing. The secret ingredient of the stuffing was no secret — it was bread. Mashed potatoes, ham, cooked carrots, sweet potatoes, corn, cranberry sauce, biscuits with real butter from the Clarks Grove Creamery (no margarine of error here), Jell-O, sugar cookies and pudding.

We ate celery for the exercise. We washed down the piece de resistance, the pumpkin pie topped with real whipped cream, with copious amounts of milk and scalding hot coffee.

We’d eat until all we could do was to pretend to eat. We’d shovel in as much foodstuffs as our stomachs would allow and then stagger off to digest. It was then that my mother would discover a food item that she had neglected to put on the table. She’d groan at her forgetfulness. We’d groan at the thought of eating another bite.

The best seats for recovering from a meal went to those with the most seniority. We hunkered down. We didn’t have a fireplace. Our hearth was a used black and white TV with a broken channel selector. We didn’t turn it on. Instead, we stared at one another.

I should have stared harder. I should have listened closer.

Savor each moment as though it were your last chance to see someone. One day, it will be.

Virtual Christmas shopping

We did all our Christmas shopping locally, but we did drool over the Christmas catalogs sent to our mailbox by Sears, J.C. Penney, and Montgomery Wards (Monkey Wards). Those who couldn’t follow the plot on “Gilligan’s Island” suddenly developed intense concentration when presented with wish books. We had no idea we wanted so much until we saw the catalogs. The gift catalogs have dwindled in number just as gift cards have proliferated (10 percent of gift cards are never redeemed).

At this season, I am reminded that we give what we have to give. Some folks become stressed. They might growl and snap at you. Don’t bite back. Treat everyone as a VIP who might get you what you want from that Monkey Wards catalog.

The news from Hartland Harold

Hartland depends upon Harold for its news. Here are the latest headlines according to Hartland Harold.

Barb Dwyer at Saint Menard’s Hardware store gives out dead batteries free of charge.

Tim Burr’s tree trimming business branches out.

Yoga class is bent out of shape after instructor is fired.

Lake pirates steal beer from ice fisherman. “It was a crappie day,” said the unidentified victim.

Someone takes a gander at a goose farm.

Fish and game officials stock Lake Inferior with catfish. Litter boxes installed.

Amelia Earhart’s autobiography disappears from library.

Road officials place an orange cone near every deer in the hopes of cutting back on collisions.

Home-schooled children demand snow days.

The Museum of Stuff That Nobody Else Wanted opens.

Hoarse thief arrested for stealing cough drops.

Famous explorer, Artie Facts, took 80 years to discover the Fountain of Old.

Ask Al

The customers of this column ask the world’s greatest questions. I provide answers that are not as lame as they could be.

“How did Minnesota decide where to put its paved roads?” They poured asphalt at the tops of hills and let the roads find their own paths.

“What does it mean when cows are lying down?” It means it is pasture bedtime.

“Have you ever been to Orange County and, if so, how did you like it?” I have been there and I found it very appealing.

“What are those spots on black and white cows called?” Holstains.

“What key do cows moo in?” Beef-flat.

“Does one side of a bird have more feathers than the other?” Yes, the outside has more feathers.

“Why do people eat lutefisk?” It’s an excuse to ingest butter.

“What kind of birds lay the most eggs?” Female birds.

“Is there anything good about poison ivy?” If you fall, it is much softer than concrete.

“What is a win-win situation?” A tie.

Life’s little irritations

It’s the little things in life that matter. They can also irritate. Here are some examples.

A radio station that never tells you who sang a song.

A soup lid that falls into the can.

Setting your digital alarm clock for 6 p.m. instead of 6 a.m.

An elevator that stops at every floor and no one gets on or off.

Trying to find an address with a car right on your rear bumper.

People who hog two parking spaces.

That one eyebrow hair that has an independent streak and decides to go its own way.

Not one of these is worth complaining about.

Hartland resident Al Batt’s columns appear every Wednesday and Sunday.