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I have always thought that the turkey in this picture is far too heavy for this woman to be holding, especially considering the way she is sort of leaning forward. See? Doesn't it look as though she's going to lose control of it at any minute and thump that beast down on the table, where it will go sliding off the tray and onto the good tablecloth, grease and all? Watch out, kiddies.

And why is Grandpa standing there? He did nothing to help make this meal, unless you consider sitting on your fat ass watching bass fishing on TV a helpful activity.

Maybe it was. Maybe she was glad to have him out of her hair for five minutes.

I'll tell you this, though. He could have chopped the celery. He could have assembled the relish tray, found the extra forks, or taken the garbage out a few times. He could have done a lot of things instead of complaining about the hole in his suit pocket, which she then had to stop everything and mend.

Women bring you the holidays, ladies and gentlemen. Don't ever forget it. They clean them up, too. It's my job to remind the world.

I don't mean to diss the grandfather. He does look kind. Maybe he mashed the potatoes. Or maybe he stood around in the kitchen and explained the Taft Hartley Act to everyone working. Although that's not much help when the rolls burn.

It's cute the way everybody else is leaning forward at the table too. That's what you do when you are really happy and excited, which I guess they are. I guess they don't hate each other or harbor secret grudges the way most of us do. I wonder if anyone is playing footsie under the table. It's rather a wide table so it would have to be someone right next to you and I don't see any candidates for that. If I had to pick candidates, I would say the young man across from the black-haired woman. He's home from college and she's the mother of one of the kids, sitting next to her own mother or grandmother. College Boy is making his move and she is not saying no. It's thrilling for both of them.

What am I talking about?

See, when you write this stuff, it spews out of you naturally.

When you write a disreputable book like DW, you start to look at the world in a disreputable way.

Ha ha.

I am leaving for Arkansas on Tuesday where I will spend Thanksgiving. It will be something like the dinner depicted here, only less titillating. My brother and his wife will cook everything at their house and bring it over to my parents' house where my daughter and I will do our best to set the table and find chairs for everyone.

Am I thankful for my blessings? Yes, and I have many.

Be here now, everybody, and love the cranberry sauce. Maybe I will make the Dallas Monster. Now that is something to be thankful for.

A bientot
love,becky

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