The real down side of living half a continent away from your family is making choices about holiday celebration travel.
Some years family comes here, some times we go there, sometimes we do neither, in light of future travel plans.
This year it is just us two, Bernie and me, and of course the two ridiculous boy cats.
If some one was to drop by, they would be welcome. Out by the front door we (OK, I) have placed a wooden turkey, dressed in rather odd attire, holding a sign confirming our welcoming attitude.
I imagine turkeys would have flooded to our doorstep, looking for amnesty, had they only known how to read.
And as much as I think wreaths on leaded glass doors look a tad odd, nevertheless a wreath adorned with a bountiful array of artificial food stuffs, such as nuts and gourds, hangs proclaiming the time of harvest.
My beloved husband is helping out with the cooking. I treated him to a Turkey Rice Crispy pop and a card with his morning cup of coffee.
Cute little treat, no?
Some day I think it would be fun to make those for grandchildren.
For now, I am thankful for the family I have, and the land that I live in.
May we all remember all that we have to be thankful for, and that we speak our thanks through out our meal, and then discover, as we lift the last forkful, that there is yet more thanks to be given.
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