Ah, Thanksgiving. Like many of you, we’ll sit around the groaning board, swap lies, and whoop (intermittently) How ’bout those Giants!

 

Mostly though, we’ll feast on the stories ~ memories of Grandma’s chicken soup with rice, the cast-off toilet (lid up) in the yard, Ma’s frozen French fries cooked with a brick of lard in the cast iron skillet. Oh, and the mayonnaise controversy. So much history here.

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The house, built in the 1800’s and moved to its present location, is full of Remember-Whens. A new table looms large and stands where bunk beds barely contained three boys.  A granite undermount sink replaces the chipped porcelain basin in what used to be the old pantry.  We love this old house and the people in it. They care about the eaves and beams, the joists and rafters. The family nest is aging gracefully and for that we are thankful.

 

 

This year, Thanksgiving will be in a different house, a different town, hosted by a different generation with its own growing families and stories to share. Each generation before us contributed to this abundance of joy.  And so it continues. Lucky us.

I’ll look around the Thanksgiving table and be (yet again) flabbergasted that we are unexpectedly older.  I knew it was coming, just not this fast.

Life is not about seeing the glass half empty or half full. The point is that you have a glass.

I raise my glass to you, Beloved Family and Loyal Readers. Notice everything and live it all.

Hey, be sure to add this little funky jam to your T-day. No, it’s not about actual turkeys. It’s about jive turkeys. A little throwback for us oldies at the table.

 

Toni 11/21/17

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3 thoughts on “I CAN’T EAT ANOTHER BITE. OH LOOK, PIE!

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