I do love Thanksgiving. I love to cook. I love Thanksgiving food. I love it when our house is clean and ready for company. I love to sit and talk over coffee and pie and play games in the afternoon.
But it is one of those tricky holidays for me (like Mother's Day) -- I need to be happy and festive for my own children, but I still want to be the kid going back to my parents' house for the holiday.
So, we make dishes my mom and dad would make in their honor: oyster dressing, pickled herring and cranberry relish.
I think I gave myself a concussion Monday, knocking myself out on the door frame of my car -- I woke on on the sidewalk. (I have a very long history of bonking my head, starting with a typewriter sophomore year of college, but that's another story . . . )
(I sort of feel like this)