To You … With Love,
November 22, 2023
As Thanksgiving comes, I run away to yesterday, where everything was so simple and so free.
Thanksgiving was just one more day for chicken, because chicken was what roosted in the hen house. Country cooking left the fragrance of soft spices permeating in the nostrils and the best of the rest, my Aunt Eva's mincemeat pies. She made them out of the real stuff where nothing else came close to making the day any better than that.
Our family was small, compared to the lot I've gathered in along the way, still it was a good family, solid and sure, untouched by grand displays.