:::Thought
:::
Thanksgiving Day. A day filled with food, family, friends and
football. A decidedly different set of "F's" than
what you'd find with gallbladder disease (fair, fat, forty and four
pregnancies... lol). :::Thought
:::
Thanksgiving Day. Will it be cold? Will it be hot?
As someone who leaves her oven door open after cooking on cold days,
I find those questions to be quite important. :::Thought
:::
Thanksgiving Day. Will I concentrate on the dishes I'm
preparing, or will it all become moot as I look out my kitchen
window at the Red Oak tree, which I so carefully placed. A
beautiful tree. On a normal Thanksgiving, I'll see the red
leaves, but they'll be gone within days, as the beauty and majesty
of winter sets in. But while I prepare my casseroles, I'll
look fondly at the bark-covered birdhouse placed high on the trunk,
a birdhouse I so carefully chose to blend in with the beauty of this
tree. :::Thought
:::
Thanksgiving Day. Whose job is it to place the extra
drumsticks on John Madden's turkey? :::Thought
:::
Thanksgiving Day. It's almost Christmas, isn't it? Gasp. 
|
